


Hear me ROAR (as if anyone cares, Sourwolf)

by jinfanfics



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Beta Erica, Beta Isaac, Beta Scott McCall, Derek can be an Asshole, Emotional Constipation, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Hate to Love, Human Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Miscommunication, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, The Hale Fire, Werewolves, but he is not a bad alpha, cora is there too, later on, laura is alive for example, some things are Cannon Compliant, sterek, stiles is insecure but BAMF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 10:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12909942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinfanfics/pseuds/jinfanfics
Summary: His gaze was unwavering as he stared at Derek’s eyes whose colour he could never quite determine, since it kept changing under the light.Currently, under the dim, or well-shitty, lights in the locker room, his eyes were more on the hazel side with green flecks swirling in those orbs, making them stupidly enticing.However, Stiles couldn’t be bothered about trying to figure out the exact colour of Derek’s annoying penetrating eyes.Not in this moment when he tried so hard to keep himself in check, making his voice drip with sarcasm as he said,“Oh, Derek, sorry to disappoint, but Scott’s not into dicks. Metaphorically and literally speaking. So, you will just have to go and prey on some other unsuspecting teenage boy. Although, hey, you are on the right path, seeing how you are cornering an innocent young teen in an empty locker room right now. Kudos to you, big guy.”





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so after so much time I finally started watching ‘Teen Wolf’ about a month ago and oh boy, what have I been missing this whole time. I mean for someone like me, whose fav genre is hate to love, or well enemies to lovers, Sterek is just a freaking goldmine for fanfic ideas. So , of course I got sucked into the ship. Hard. And I feel guilty, because that is another reason why I have been slower with the updates of my JinKook ongoing fic. But, sometimes, I find inspiration for one work by writing another, so that is why, I had to start writing this Sterek fanfic. I had the idea for weeks, but no time to write it. I don’t know when I will be able to update, since I have to work on my JinKook fic as well, but yeah.
> 
> p.s. not posting this on AFF

Stiles was the last one left in the locker room after a particularly harsh lacrosse practice in which Jackson—the douchebag that he is, practically ploughed into him, causing him to hit the ground so hard that he even ended up swallowing some of the dirt.

Yuck.

Stiles shuddered in disgust, his tongue hitting the back of his teeth in attempt to get rid of the last remnants of the soil and grass which he spent the past 15 minutes trying to gurgle out in the bathroom of the locker room with Jackson laughing at him like an asshole that he is.

He hadn’t seen the moment coach had appeared, being too busy with trying not to throw up at the taste of mud in his mouth, but he specifically heard Finstock’s irritated ‘I have no time for this shit’ as he told Jackson to shove off, before a loud smack echoed in the boys locker room, followed by Jackson’s loud whine.

Despite the noise of the running water, Stiles could clearly hear the snickers from behind him at Jackson’s disgruntled whining about coach’s bullying and if he wasn’t too busy with rinsing the horrifying taste out of his mouth, he would have probably had some sassy remark ready to point out the irony in Jackson using the word ‘bullying’.

He suspected that because of his ‘always ready to burn you in the most embarrassing way possible’ attitude that he was probably now in this situation, since his mind and no-filter mouth were especially creative when it came to insulting Jackson.

He couldn’t help it really.

It wasn’t his fault that Jackson had been a major douche to him, since like forever, or since he realized that Stiles was pining after Lydia, the goddess of Beacon Hills high school, who was, out of some still inconceivable reason to Stiles, also Jackson’s girlfriend.

So, the sarcastic remarks directed at Jackson were practically like second nature to him, although it had already been half a year, since he got over his unrequited crush on Lydia Martin.

Everyone noticed the moment Stiles stopped staring at Lydia like a love-struck puppy and instead came to appreciate her as a good friend, always turning to her when he had some sort of a problem, mostly related to a particularly hard homework assignment, since she was extremely smart.

She had also proclaimed herself his own personal ‘style and love guru’, although considering the latter, there would actually have to be someone involved with him for her to be his romantic advisor.

So far, the only one romantically involved with Stiles was his left hand with which he was still in a committed relationship since the age of 14 when he regularly started jerking off to porn with redheads which resembled a certain girl.

It had been about more than 3 years since then and the only thing that changed was his preference in porn, now featuring mostly male muscular characters with dangerous expressions.

Needless to say that he and his leftie had still been going strong and he was almost 18, so he figured that on the love front, there would be no change anytime soon.

However, that did not stop Lydia from nagging at him constantly to ‘get out there and get laid, for fuck’s sake Stilinski’.

Stiles remembered that conversation vividly, since it was in that exact moment that his father decided to pass next to his bedroom where he and Lydia were on his bed, watching a movie featuring some hunk, who may have caused Stiles to drool a little, prompting Lydia to make that remark about his sex life, or the lack of it.

Unfortunately, his father did not realize that he should appreciate the fact that his only son’s virtue was still intact ( and probably would be for a while, Stiles thought bitterly), because his face had gone pale, his expression frozen, before he turned on his heel and left the house.

Lydia of course slapped his arm and called him a ‘lame loser’, muttering how it was all his fault that he was so pathetic and single, instead of admitting that she was the one who was at fault for blabbering about stuff that were not about to change in any near future, no matter how much she, or Stiles wanted them to.

Scott, of course being the best friend he was, laughed so hard that he spit out the milk he had been drinking at lunch the very next day.

Well, at least someone was amused, Stiles had thought then, since he was far from it, having to have the awkward talk with his father that night about ‘safe sex’ and what not.

Ugh, Stiles shivered just remembering the awkwardness of that talk, or the way both he and his father wanted to be anywhere else, but in the living room of their home at that particular moment.

It was a bit flattering when his father did not believe his reassurance that he won’t be involved in any sexual acts anytime soon and his father just gave him that ‘I am the Sheriff and I am sure you are full of shit right now but I will let it slide because this conversation is making my skin crawl’ look.

As if Stiles was really going to be participating in any indecent acts involving him getting naked with anyone anytime soon, Stiles thought with an exasperated sigh.

Remembering that talk, Stiles shook his head, before lifting his hand and saying with a slight grin“ Just you and me buddy, as always”.

He was so preoccupied with lamenting the fact that he was going to have to continue his relationship with the most fateful part of his body which was why he didn’t notice another presence in the otherwise empty locker room, until a low voice full of judgment spoke.

“Could you get any weirder?”

Stiles got so startled that he practically jumped back so hard that he managed to slam his back into one of the lockers, causing it to shake violently.

He was positive that his heart was going to jump out of his chest, grow legs and run far, far away with how terrified he was, his gaze landing on the tall figure leaning on one of the lockers at the other end of the locker room.

Once he realized who it was, his eyes narrowed instantly on the figure of the dark-haired man in a leather jacket and a worn-out gray Henley shirt, his strong arms crossed over his chest, his posture relaxed as he was leaning on one of the lockers.

However, his gaze was threatening and Stiles’ previous fear was replaced with annoyance as always, when it came to Derek Hale—creeper and asshole werewolf extraordinaire.

He straightened immediately, crossing his own arms over his chest in a challenging manner, his lips pursed in a tight line, before he said, “I actually can, but I don’t see how my weirdness is any of your business.”

He expected the usual from the werewolf with a resting bitch face, such as a murderous glare (although that was his default state when dealing with anyone—or maybe just with Stiles, he couldn’t be sure), or the usual growl, so he was slightly taken aback when Derek let out a snort.

Well, that was a first, Stiles thought, cataloguing that expression in the list of limited expressions Derek Hale made when he was dealing with him.

The list so far consisted of:

  1. Super intense “I am going to kill you any second now” glare
  2. Growling in various volumes-from mild, when Stiles was his usual self, to full on growling when he was blabbering a hundred words in a minute which Derek obviously did not appreciate like the jerk that he was, followed by an intricate eyebrow dance and honestly before meeting Derek, Stiles never realized just how much someone's eyebrows could convey the desire of killing someone-Stiles, in this case



and now number 3 was snorting, but still looking murderous af.

But before Stiles could make some remark, the werewolf took a step towards him, now sending Stiles one of those glares, well actually—he just intensified it in a “I am going to rip your throat out with my teeth” sort of a way which was something Stiles was already used to when it came to the asshole.

So, he didn’t take a step back, despite his heartbeat slightly picking up.

Unfortunately, Derek must have heard his traitorous heart, judging by the slight upwards curl of the corner of his lips, when the alpha parted his lips, his tone of voice deeper and more threatening than before as he said, “It’s not. What _is_ my business is you meddling in stuff you have no idea about. So, I suggest you stop filling Scott’s head with nonsense, thinking how you know everything about werewolves and instead let him come to me, since I actually know shit about it, unlike you.”

Stiles clenched his fist while trying to steady his breathing which picked up at the alpha’s words.

His gaze was unwavering as he stared at Derek’s eyes whose colour he could never quite determine, since it kept changing under the light.

Currently, under the dim, or well-shitty, lights in the locker room his eyes were more on the hazel side with green flecks swirling in those orbs, making them stupidly enticing.

However, Stiles couldn’t be bothered about trying to figure out the exact colour of Derek’s annoying eyes.

Not in this moment when he tried so hard to keep himself in check, making his voice drip with sarcasm as he said, “Oh, Derek, sorry to disappoint, but Scott’s not into dicks. Methaporically and literally speaking. So, you will just have to go and prey on some other unsuspecting teenage boy. Although hey, you are on the right path, seeing how you are cornering an innocent young teen in an empty locker room right now. Kudos to you, big guy.”

Stiles was ready for Derek to snarl at him, or throw some more insults at him, but what he was not ready was a deafening roar coming from the alpha which made his blood run cold.

He didn’t even have the time to react, only succeeding in blinking, before his back was slammed to the locker behind him with a solid body weight pressing against him, Derek’s arm splayed over his chest and slightly knocking the air out of his lungs.

No biggie, Stiles thought, wondering how long he could go without air, before fainting.

He didn’t have time to ponder on it, though, because one pissed off alpha was practically spitting his words at him, and Stiles was sure that that was not the only thing the werewolf spat, he thought slightly disgusted when he felt something wet land on his cheek.

Werewolf spit, great.

Stiles was used to werewolf drool, with Scott falling asleep on his shoulder countless times during regular movie nights at Stilinski household every Thursday, but that was Scott—his bro, his platonic soulmate.

This, however, Stiles thought as he finally forced his eyes open, which he now regretted doing as he was met with red blazing stare of one very mad alpha, was a spit of a werewolf, who was nowhere near being tolerated in Stiles’ books.

Before he could voice out his absolute disgust at the stickiness on his cheek, which was starting to dry off—ew, Derek was already talking, or more like growling, every word.

“Are you really going to be so fucking selfish? You call yourself Scott’s best friend and yet you seem to be doing everything to lead him to an imminent doom with your stubborn ways.”

Okay, hold the fuck on, Stiles thought angrily as he glowered, hating that his eyes were a boring honey colour instead of bloody red like Derek’s, because his response would sound more convincing with such eyes.

Nevertheless, he was sure that his fury at such an accusation was felt as he spoke in a low, strained voice, “Fuck you. I’ve known Scott almost my whole life and then you walked in 3 months ago with your stories about pack, an alpha and how Scott needed you to guide him in the werewolf world. Well, if you thought that I would allow a constantly murderous looking alpha with apparent anger issues take away my friend and order him around, just because he can, then you have underestimated the force that is Stiles Stilinski.”

“The force-,” Derek spat out, tightening his grip and really making Stiles consider his previous theory about how long he could go without air, “-should stay out of my way and let me take care of Scott. If you have actually researched so much about werewolves then you should now that we are pack animals and that a beta like Scott needs a family to rely on.”

“Scott already has a family,” Stiles spat back in one breath, becoming more and more enraged with each passing second.

Derek’s eyes narrowed, his voice coming out as an angry rumble, his expression almost on the verge of losing patience and probably fulfilling his previous threat of actually ripping Stiles’ throat out with his teeth, “A family that can actually protect him from a danger and not a human mother, a father that left without a trace a long time ago and a skinny, loud-mouthed human who can’t even protect himself, let alone Scott.”

Okay, Stiles was now 100% offended.

He could very well defend himself, thank you very much.

That is what the baseball bat lying next to his bed was for.

It would have really come in handy now, to prove Derek how wrong he was, except that he couldn’t be walking around school with a metal baseball bat without getting in trouble.

Not everyone could be a dark, brooding werewolf with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow, who could probably ( most likely—okay CERTAINLY) snap you like a twig just with his hands alone, Stiles noted dully.

Stupid freakish werewolf strength, he muttered under his breath.

He was brought back out of his thoughts by the air returning in his lungs and when he looked up, he was surprised to see Derek’s eyes had gone back to normal, the werewolf still so close, but no part of their bodies touching, which was slightly disappointing.

Wait, what?!

Stiles frowned at the unexpected direction of his thoughts, but Derek’s voice tight with something, made him meet the werewolf’s gaze once again.

 “Listen, Stiles, if you really care about Scott then you will stop sabotaging my efforts of helping him. For some unknown reason, Scott seems to really care about your opinion.”

Stiles’ frown deepened at that underlying insult, and Derek should really work on his persuading skills, because offending someone like that is really not the proper way to gaining their support, especially Stiles’.

Unbothered by Stiles’ reaction, Derek continued talking, his voice becoming more strained as he said, “ It’s been 3 months since the bite and the full moon is approaching. Scott needs to learn control before that, or he could hurt someone. He needs an alpha, and I am the only alpha in Beacon Hills now, so just stop standing in the way.”

He sounded so tired that Stiles responded without heat this time, but his intention was clear nevertheless.

After all, how dare Derek say he would be standing in the way.

If anything, he was nothing more than supportive ever since that night in woods when Scott got bitten by Derek’s crazy uncle.

Sure, on a very big level he felt guilty about the whole thing, because it was his insatiable curiosity that made him drag Scott to the woods that night, after finding out that his father found half of the body in the woods and the other half was missing.

Could he be blamed for his natural inquisitiveness to take the best of him that night?

He thinks not.

Also, it’s not like he forced Scott to come with him.

Unlike Derek, he was good at convincing people to do what he wanted, especially Scott, who had been something like the Robin to his Batman ever since they were kids.

How was he supposed to know that they would end up separated and that Scott would get bitten by a freaking werewolf during that time?!

Who even knew that werewolves were a real thing until that night?!

Also, he should be praised for reacting better than anyone would have when Scott told—and showed him, to Stiles’ insistence, his claws and furry face.

Truth to be told Stiles was always fascinated by the supernatural and he thought that it was pretty cool that his best friend had become one of such creatures.

That was until a few days later when Scott had been attacked by the creeper that had bitten him while he and Stiles were lurking around the woods again, trying to find the rest of that body, for who knows what reason (read—Stiles’ natural noisiness being that reason).

Enter Derek Hale—a grumpy werewolf in a black leather jacket and a black turtleneck, engaging in a fight to the death with the feral wolf that bit Scott, before another werewolf joined the fight, helping Derek in ripping the guy’s throat out.

Stiles remembers the dread running through his body that night and the way Scott kept squeezing his hand, effectively cutting off his blood circulation, before Derek’s eyes flashed crimson red as he finally turned to them, his first words spoken to them being, “ I am the alpha now. And you are on private property.”

Talk about great first impressions, Stiles thought sarcastically.

Even after Derek, and the other werewolf—who turned out to be his sister Laura, explained to them that the psychotic guy that Derek had slaughtered was their uncle, who escaped some hospital, Stiles wasn’t really listening, but it was probably a mental facility, judging by the guy’s kink of biting teenage boys in woods ( they found out that Peter, that was the lunatic’s name, had previously bitten two more people which were now part of Derek’s pack), and also tried to kill Laura, Stiles was still not convinced of their justification in killing that dude.

Sure, he deserved to die after doing that to Scott, and to Isaac and Erica, who Stiles actually remembered from high school as the social rejects at that time, but he questioned Derek’s motives that night and he questioned them now as well.

After Derek’s offer that night for Scott to join his pack with Stiles stating, “No way in hell” without an ounce of hesitation, pulling Scott away before his best friend had the chance to respond, Stiles did an extensive research on werewolf history.

He spent many sleepless nights in the library and on the net and what he found was enough to convince him that he did the right thing that night when he dragged Scott away from the werewolf siblings with incredibly good genes in the appearance department.

Apparently, an alpha’s power increased with the amount of pack members, which is what Stiles suspected was Derek’s real reason of making an attempt to recruit Scott into his puppy pile consisting of his two sisters, Laura and Cora and the former social rejects now turned into badass, confident hot blonde and sassy curly guy.

Luckily, Scott, his naïve and foolish bro, had him and Stiles, despite being a puny human, he thought bitterly as he remembered Derek’s previous statement, was not stupid.

On the contrary, some might even call him a genius.

Okay, only he calls himself like that, but he is pretty sure that all of those who have known him for a while have come to that same conclusion, but are just too bashful to say it.

However, all of that was irrelevant now.

What was relevant was that despite Derek’s constant lurking in those 3 months since he became an alpha and since Scott turned into a werewolf, jumping at every chance when Scott was unsupervised—i.e. when Stiles had to reluctantly go home after Scott’s mom would kick him out, saying ‘go home Stiles, you two can’t be attached at the hip all the time’ ( oh how foolish Ms McCall, Stiles thought every time he was kicked out only to climb to Scott’s bedroom window immediately after only to be thrown out again by a frustrated Ms McCall), Stiles still hadn’t changed his opinion of the brooding alpha.

That is why his voice hadn’t faltered as he stared straight into Derek’s eyes since they were almost the same height, saying, “ Fyi, Scott has been controlling his big bad wolf urges just fine and thanks to who? Yours truly. So, I am pretty sure we will survive the full moon without you just fine. The only one standing in the way is you. So, take your lurker’s ass and saunter away from us.”

Obviously, Derek hadn’t been expecting that answer, because he looked like he was one second from slamming Stiles against the locker for the second time, but this time Stiles was saved by the bell.

Literally.

When the bell rang, it made Derek wince, the shrill sound probably too loud for his sensitive werewolf ears which gave Stiles the chance to run past him as fast as he could and even though he had no werewolf hearing, he could still hear Derek’s voice yelling behind him, “ You will regret this Stiles! And then it will be too late!”

Stiles didn’t glance back and he didn’t stop running until he was in the school corridor.

Once he was in the hallway filled with other students, he allowed himself to relax, slumping against the wall—his heart thrumming in his chest.

He knew he was doing the right thing.

Despite knowing that Derek was a born werewolf, and that he probably knew more about werewolves than he and Scott, Stiles still didn’t trust him.

Sure, he got rid of Peter, but that was because it was in his interest.

After all, Peter was the alpha before that and he tried to kill Laura, so it was clear that Derek did not do it for Scott.

Because, if he had really been worried about his uncle turning teenagers into werewolves against their will, then he would have stopped Peter long before, after he had given the bite to Erica and Isaac.

Sure, on some level Stiles could even try and understand Derek, since everyone knew about the Hale fire when Derek, Laura and Cora had been teenagers, which killed his whole family and cousins except the 3 of them, who were on a school trip at that time.

Technically, Peter survived the fire, but with nasty burns, practically being in a comatose state in the hospital all those years after the fire, although he was obviously plotting on how to become stronger by messing with the minds of emotionally damaged teenagers.

Stiles would be damned to let Derek anywhere near Scott, even though sometimes he thought he could see the sincerity in Derek’s eyes whenever the sour-faced alpha almost begged for Scott to join his pack.

No, scratch that, if he had begged then maybe Stiles would have believed him.

Derek Hale did not beg.

He ordered and slammed people—Stiles, into solid surfaces when he defied him which was always.

So, no, Stiles was not going to let his best friend be bossed around by that hairy ball of anger issues.

No matter how much Scott sometimes tried to convince him that maybe Derek had a point.

Scot was too pure and wanted to believe that there was good in everyone.

Stiles, on the other hand, was the Sheriff’s son and he knew that most people had hidden motives for doing the things they did, and he was pretty sure that Derek’s secret motive was his own benefit of power and not Scott’s well-being, so with that thought he collected himself, got up and headed to his class.

He was already late and Mr. Harris was a sadist, who took great pleasure in making his life even more miserable, if that was even possible lately with ridiculously hot werewolves with short-temper and what not in his life.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided that Stiles will definitely be magical later on. XD

“What about Allison? Maybe she can be your anchor when you wolf out?” Stiles suggested, because the full moon was just around the corner and they still haven’t figured out how exactly to deal with that.

However, amongst his extensive research on werewolves, he found an information somewhere which stated that for werewolves, especially the recently bitten ones, it was important to have someone to be their anchor and calm them.

In Stiles’ opinion, Allison was the most reasonable choice, since Scott had been pining over the pretty brunette for quite some time now.

Which was why the words that left Scott’s mouth next caused him to gape at his friend like he had gone insane, or maybe possessed.

Yeah, possessed was more like it, because there was no way in hell that Scott had just said, “Nah, I think I am over her.”

Over her? OVER HER?! Since fucking when?!!!

“Geez, man, there is no need to yell. I can hear you just fine.”

Stiles blinked twice, staring at his friend, who winced as he said that, and _oh,_ he didn’t even realize that he had voiced his thoughts out loud and half-deafened Scott in the process.

Well, whatever.

It was a perfectly normal reaction to his best friend telling him that he was over the girl he had been obsessing over for months now, constantly moping to Stiles about how perfect she is and what not.

For fuck’s sake, she was the reason that they joined the lacrosse team in the first place.

Well, technically, Scott wanted to join, but didn’t want to do it alone, so of course he pleaded for Stiles to be his moral support in wooing Allison and to try out for the team as well.

Now, if it had been anyone else asking him for such a preposterous favour, he would have rejected them without an ounce of regret, or hesitation.

But, it wasn’t anyone else.

It was Scott.

Scott, blinking his large chocolate brown eyes at him with a hopeful look on his face and fuck, how could Stiles, no—how could anyone, say no to that??

So, Stiles let himself get dragged into the harsh world of lacrosse, although he still had no idea how he and Scott even managed to enter the team in the first place.

He had come to the conclusion that the only reason coach had accepted their ‘sorry-asses and pathetic excuses for human beings’—how he always fondly called them, was to have bench warmers.

After all, every team needed someone to warm the bench in every sense of the way, because you couldn’t possibly let the superstars of lacrosse, Stiles sneered in his head, such as Jackson –The-Greatest-Douchebag-Of-Them-All Whittemore, sit on a cold bench after playing a spectacular game.

Of course, after Scott had gotten bitten and gained awesome werewolfy powers such as incredible speed and strength, not to mention the enhanced vision and hearing, the only one left to keep the bench nice and cosy was Stiles.

And oh, Greenberg too, but honestly, Greenberg was like some invisible presence.

Like, nobody even had idea that the dude was there, at practices, or sitting at the bench, next to Stiles no less.

He was like a fucking shadow and the only time anyone was ever made aware of his presence was when the  coach would suddenly trash-talk him, usually saying stuff like “You suck, Greenberg!”, or, “ Nobody cares, Greenberg!”

Poor guy, Stiles thought with a sudden surge of pity, but then he remembered that he wasn’t in a much better position, since coach still addressed him as ‘Bilinski’.

Stiles let out a long sigh, wondering what he did in his previous life to deserve all of this.

Also, back to the matter at hand, he thought as he narrowed his eyes at Scott, his voice accusatory as he said, “If you are over Allison, then why the hell are we still on the lacrosse team?!”

Scott blinked at him with his big, confused eyes, before tilting his head in a curious manner, saying, “ Why wouldn’t we be? We kick ass at lacrosse.”

Stiles let out another exasperated sigh, his hand coming to rub over his face as he responded, “ No, _YOU_ kick ass at lacrosse, ever since you have become a fury mass of muscles and what-not, but let me remind you that I am still the same old, uncoordinated human with fair skin that easily bruises.  So, you better tell me how and when exactly you have decided to stop crushing on Allison, because that is the least I deserve for being kept in the dark about that important info which would have affected my life greatly in a positive way, as in-I wouldn’t have to endure being pummeled into the ground anytime Jackson decided to be a sadistic prick towards me at practice which is hey—just about all the time and also-“

Stiles’s rant was unfortunately cut short when Scott raked his hand through his brown locks, saying in a frustrated manner, “Okay, okay, Isaac kind of made me realize that it would be better if I kept my distance from her.”

That was enough to effectively shut Stiles up.

For about 5 seconds at least, which was kind of a record for him in keeping quiet.

“Hold on,” Stiles said slowly, his brain still trying to process what Scott had just said while raising his hand between him and Scott and making his friend look at him while furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“Isaac? As in Isaac Lahey—one of Derek’s evil minions?!” Stiles hissed, causing Scott to frown as he

mumbled, “ He is not an evil minion. He is actually quite cool and has a unique sense of humor and also-“

Scott didn’t get to finish that sentence, because Stiles’ had yet again raised his hand to stop him from talking while closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

 “Are you _seriously_ going on about how swoon-worthy Isaac-Freaking-Lahey is?! Like what the hell, since when do you play for that team and why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Scott didn’t seem to appreciate his question, because he got all sulky and said, “I am not and I don’t. It’s just that I ran into Isaac a few days ago and we started talking and Allison happened to be passing by at that time. He told me that her family are werewolf hunters and that they are dangerous. That’s all.”

“Oh, that’s rich Scotty. A werewolf, who serves under Derek Hale, who is nothing but trouble clad in a leather jacket 24/7, is suddenly telling you who is dangerous? Pft, give me a break,” Stiles mocked.

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, because Scott got even pissier, his face looking as if he was constipated and if they weren’t arguing then Stiles’ would have laughed at him and teased him about it.

He was actually still trying really hard to suppress a smile, because Scott’s face looked too funny.

“Stiles just stop it, will you?”

Stiles suddenly felt no desire to laugh, his eyes widening at the way Scott spoke to him.

Sure, they had their fair share of arguments in the past, but it usually never went further than friendly bickering.

This was the first time Scott really seemed angry at him and that made Stiles panic slightly.

Scott seemed to have picked up on his sudden distress, with his stupid werewolf senses, because in the next moment he looked away with a guilty look on his face while he rubbed his neck awkwardly.

“Look, I know you are trying to help and that you want the best for me, but it’s just…I am not a baby, Stiles. I can make decisions on my own, too. Also, I felt really good talking to Isaac that time, cuz he is like me. He got bitten against his will as well and…I felt kind of relieved talking to someone who went through the same thing, ya know?”

Stiles didn’t know.

Because he did not get bitten that night.

Because he was not a werewolf.

He was just some _skinny, loud-mouthed human who can’t even protect himself, let alone Scott._

Derek’s words echoed in his mind and while he refused to believe them then, now he wasn’t so sure.

But, he was Stiles Stilinski, Scott’s bro for life and he would be damned to let his insecurities get to him.

After all, he had already made Scott look like a kicked puppy with his behavior, and he hated that look on his best friend.

So, he pushed down the feelings of self-pity slowly rising inside of him and instead he let out a defeated sigh, saying, “Yeah, I get that. Sorry, bro. I just thought there was something between you and Allison—a connection of some sort.”

He knew he was talking bullshit right now, since the only connection Scott had with Allison was that they were both students at Beacon Hills high school, since Allison hardly ever paid attention to Scott.

Scott seemed relieved that they seemed to be back to normal again, saying with a light smile and a shrug, “Well, I kind of think that she is the one playing for the other team. I saw her sneaking off with Kira to the janitor’s closet during one of the lunch breaks the other day, so yeah…”

Stiles’ eyebrows went up in surprise and woah, Allison and Kira?

Together?

In one confined space, their milky skin touching as they panted, their heavy breaths mingling while th—“ Dude!”

Stiles snapped out of his thoughts to see Scott watching him with a wrinkled nose and a grossed out expression and he flailed his arms in exasperation and let out an annoyed sigh as he said, “God damn it. Can’t a functional horny teenage boy have a moment for himself to imagine various scenarios involving two hot girls without anyone sniffing his arousal?!”

“It’s not my fault that you are not subtle. One whiff and I could tell what you were thinking about,” Scott replied as he slightly shuddered.

“Who told you to sniff me, you absolute CREEPER!” Stiles exclaimed, before slapping Scott on the shoulder, causing his best friend to sputter about something while Stiles kept poking him in the side, yelling, “Scot McCall has a sniffing kink! Hide your daughters and women, because Sc—mmph!”

“Dude, shut up!”

Stiles started snickering in Scott’s hand which was now plastered across his mouth to stop him from embarrassing him even further, although a few girls passing by had already given Scott curious looks, causing the brown-haired boy to blush furiously.

Stiles felt satisfied that he and Scott were back to normal.

He really didn’t want to fight with his best friend which is why he decided not to bring up the whole ‘being chummy with Isaac Lahey and actually taking his advice’ thing for the time being.

He was just going to have to trust Scott and hope that it was a one-time moment of mental instability that made him interact with one of Derek’s evil minions, yeah he was still calling him like that, because it was the truth and Scott could suck it.

Although, Scott claimed that he didn’t play for the ‘suck things’ team.

But then again, why would he-, Stiles’ internal monologue was unfortunately brought to an end when Scott  excitedly started telling him about how he managed to wolf out even more the other day and Stiles was forced to focus all of his attention on his best friend.

See, Albert Einstein and the other geniuses probably did not have werewolf best friends which was why they could reach their full potential and be proclaimed as geniuses worldwide, unlike Stiles, who had to be distracted from doing that as well, by being an awesome friend to a hormonal werewolf.

He should be given a fuckin’ Nobel prize for ‘Absolute Awesomeness in the Friends Department’ right then and there.

Instead, all he got was a whiff of Scott’s werewolf breath as the boy suddenly jumped in front of him, flashing his elongated canines at Stiles, unconcerned with the fact that his dog breath almost made Stiles throw up on the spot.

Scott would probably kill him about the dog joke, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

The only one suffering in that moment was Stiles’, who merely pushed at Scott’s shoulder to create some distance between them, so that he could breathe in some fresh air.

Ah, Alby was a smart man-being cooped up in his lab and peacefully working on his theory of relativity, without any overly-hyperactive furballs standing in the way of his intellectual greatness and worldwide fame.

Lucky bastard.

✢

No fucking way.

Stiles rubbed at his eyes, although he practically wanted to claw at them to make the vomit-inducing sight in front of him disappear.

Unfortunately, his nails were practically non-existent, since he had a nasty habit of chewing them and he wasn’t a freaking werewolf who could make claws appear instantly, so he had no choice, but to watch in horror and disgust as his best friend practically grinded against one curly werewolf on the dance floor.

Holy shit, Scott had gotten further with a guy than he ever has, and yet Stiles was a proudly out-of-the-closet bisexual since the age of 16, while Scott was…Well, Scott was a fucking liar, that’s what he was, Stiles concluded bitterly as he winced when he saw Scott’s hand gripping Isaac’s waist.

“Oh, sorry, bro, but I won’t make it tonight for the movie night. I, ugh, have to study for that…Chem test! Yeah, chem. test, that’s right!” Stiles replayed Scott’s words in his head sarcastically while scowling.

First of all, Stiles just knew something was off the moment Scott had called him a couple hours ago to cancel on the movie night, because ONE DOES NOT SIMPLY CANCEL THE MANDATORY THURSDAY MOVIE NIGHT AT THE STILLINSKI HOUSEHOLD.

Second of all, since when did Scott actually study, Stiles had thought then, because come on. Even coach always made fun of Scott about that, because…Well, come on. Scott wasn’t exactly what you would call the brightest pea in the pod.

Finally, there was no chem test. Stiles would know, since he and Scott actually shared that class and also, because Harris, being the sadistic teacher that he was, never once announced when the test was going to take place, instead always opting for the ‘surprise and suffer’ effect as he usually handed out the tests when the curriculum was the most difficult.

That was why Stiles had decided to go and confront Scott, because he knew that his best friend would crack under pressure.

However, he couldn’t leave the house right after his call with Scott, since he had to make sure his dad had something healthy to eat when he got back from his shift at the police station, and they were out of food except for the junk food that Stiles had bought the previous night for him and Scott which was now under his bed, hidden away from his sweet-tooth loving father’s sticky fingers.

So, after the trip to the grocery store and an hour spent in the kitchen, making some vegetable salad, Stiles headed towards the McCall house.

However, just as he was about to get out of his jeep and march up to Scott’s room and demand for an explanation, he saw Scott getting out of the house in tight, leather jeans and a black wife-beater which woah, hey—since when did his best friend dress like a porno star, Stiles had wondered for a moment, before Scott practically disappeared in front of his eyes.

He cursed under his breath as he realized that Scott had gone wolf-mode and sprinted like crazy in some direction.

Despite immediately starting the jeep and going in the direction he saw Scott running, he still couldn’t quite catch up with his friend.

As he cruised the town with his jeep for about 15 minutes, in hopes of spotting Scott, but with no such luck, he was just about to give up and return home defeated when he caught sight of a familiar figure entering some alley.

Logically, he knew that going into dark alleys at night, following a certain curly-haired werewolf could only end up badly—for him that is, but he had no choice.

Because, no matter how much he wanted to trust his best friend, that ship had sailed the moment Scott had broken the sacred bond of Thursday movie nights and he had an akin’ suspicion that it definitely had to do something with Isaac Lahey disappearing into the darkness between dark red brick walls of two of the oldest buildings in Beacon Hills.

Reluctantly, Stiles waited for about 10 minutes after he saw Isaac’s tall figure disappearing into the shady passage, before he got out of the jeep and made his way there.

He tried to calm his frantic heartbeat by placing his hand on his chest, but it didn’t help that once he got between the two buildings, the only thing he was met was pitch dark and a chilly wind engulfing him and practically sucking out his body heat.

The only reason why he continued walking was because he heard a murmur of voices far ahead and once he reached what he had assumed was the end of the hair-raising alley, a consistent beat echoed in his ears.

His gaze landed on the steel door at the bottom of some stairs and he almost wanted to laugh in irony when he noticed the ‘ New Moon’ sign on the door along with a spray-painted black wolf howling at the moon.

He swallowed his anxiety and made his way down the stairs.

He was ready to be met with some pretty horrifying sights, such as maybe werewolves feeding on some animals, or even humans, but the sight in front of him was far worse and he was sure that it would be giving him nightmares for years to come.

“No Stiles, I don’t play for that team. It’s just that Isaac has been through the same shit as me and ofcrs what better way to bond than to fucking connect our raging boners in the nightclub and thus share and compare our sad misfortune of getting bitten by Peter. Oh, and also, let’s compare something else as well-wink, wink,” Stiles mock-mumbled as he felt the sudden urge to throw up.

He was just about to march over there and demand for Scott to remove himself from that sweet-talker with an obviously fake British accent, when a hot breath fawned over his ear as a smug voice said quietly, “Well, I guess he is into dicks, after all. At least in a literal sense of the word. Although, Isaac can be a dick at times as well, so I guess your hypothesis is completely invalid.”

Stiles gritted his teeth, before turning around with the most pissed off expression he could muster, only to be greeted by dark leather, an actual smirk and hazel eyes shining brilliantly, even in the darkness of the nightclub, the forest green flecks dancing around its edges.

He wasn’t even surprised that _he_ was here too.

After all, he must have orchestrated all of this to lure Scott in his gang of furry teenagers.

He was almost distracted by that ridiculous set of eyes, glimmering wickedly under the faint lights of the nightclub, but his irritation made him keep focus as he huffed in annoyance, before leveling Derek with a hard stare.

Obviously it had no effect  whatsoever on the brooding alpha, who just tilted his head mockingly, probably waiting for whatever stupid thing was going to leave Stiles’ mouth.

Well, Stiles was never the one to disappoint in that aspect.

“So, what, you are so desperate to have Scott increase your alpha powers that you actually became some sort of a werewolf pimp, sending one of your fury lackeys to entice poor, innocent Scott with their seductive ways?”

True to himself, Stiles did not lack anything in the witty response department.

Too bad that Derek didn’t seem to find him amusing, although Stiles suspected that nothing could amuse the constantly grumpy werewolf.

He wondered, if the man even knew how to smile.

If he did, it would probably cause him physical pain to do so.

Suddenly, Stiles had an intense desire to make him laugh just because.

He pushed those thoughts aside when he heard Derek’s snarl of warning as he lowly said, “Scott hardly seems innocent with the way he is practically devouring Isaac with his eyes.”

Stiles didn’t even want to turn around and check if Derek was right.

He kind of suspected that he was, recalling the way Scott had pulled Isaac close to himself a few moments ago and cursed be Derek for making him remember that nauseating scene.

Nevertheless, he stood his ground as he waved a dismissive hand and said, “Scott is just a kid. He doesn’t know what he is doing.”

That seemed to have made Derek’s expression go puzzled for a split second, which was kind of not a bad look on Derek, if Stiles had to say.

It was certainly better than his, “I will destroy anyone—Stiles, who stands in my way of obtaining ultimate Alpha power, har har har” expression that he wore most of the times.

“If he is just a kid, then what are you?” Derek finally asked, and call him delusional, but Stiles could have sworn that there was a hint of curiosity in his tone of voice.

That was probably why he stated with absolute confidence, “I am a genius trapped in a body of 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones with sarcasm as my only defense.”

Derek was now giving him a look of utter disbelief, before it was replaced by a ‘ Why me, God? What have I done to you to deal with this?’ look, before he let out a long sigh, saying, “You are an idiot with a no-mouth filter and I suggest you take your fragile bones out of here, before you get hurt.”

Stiles scowled, before narrowing his eyes at Derek and saying, “Your threats don’t scare me.”

Before he could process the change in Derek’s expression, which darkened in a matter of milliseconds, Stiles was already pressed against a wall in the unfortunately empty booth in the nightclub.

Damn it, what was it with Derek and slamming him into solid surfaces?

Definitely some sort of a Derek Hale fetish, Stiles concluded.

He winced at the way Derek’s fingers were twisting at the front of his shirt, wrinkling the soft fabric as his feet kicked in the air with Derek holding him slightly above ground as if he was light as a feather.

Cursed be those useless 147 pounds of nothing but fragile bones.

If only his skin was pale enough to instantly make Derek blind, but nope—even that part of him was useless.

No wonder he had been single for all his life.

Who would want to tap him?

Before he could go into one of his usual self-pity party moods, Derek was talking again while practically boring daggers into his face.

“Then how about I realize that threat once and for all?”

Stiles’ eyes widened, before he told himself to calm down.

Derek was obviously bluffing and he called him out on it.

“If you did that, Scott would never join your pack, so HA!”

The smirk and the glint that Derek offered in response was not what Stiles’ was expecting and he could feel his heart banging against his chest,

Shit, did he finally cross the line with the short-tempered alpha?

Derek must have picked up on his state of fear, because he was now full on grinning, his pearly fangs extending and oh, HOLY SHIT, he was now leaning in while tightening his grip on Stiles’ shirt.

“Well, because of you constantly being in the way, he doesn’t want to join anyways. So, how about I finally remove that obstacle and we see what happens? Well, _I_ will see, because you will be…Well, you know.”

Stiles’ was officially on the verge of having a panic attack, because Derek actually chuckled when he said that, his eyes growing darker as his gaze landed on Stiles’ neck and no,no,no—this was so not happening!

Stiles gulped hard which made Derek unconsciously wet his lips and Stiles’ felt like a small animal caught in a cage, waiting for the big bad wolf to come and rip it into pieces.

It was ironic how the metaphor was not really so much of a metaphor in this case, but an actual thing.

Shit.

“Derek,” Stiles’ voice came out hesitant and strained which is probably why Derek even glanced at him, his expression a mix of annoyance and something else.

It didn’t seem like bloodlust, but when Stiles’ tongue darted over his lower lip, in an attempt to lessen his frayed nerves, Derek’s eyes flashed red for a moment and Stiles’ literally stopped breathing.

His mouth was parted, but there was no air coming out of it.

The next thing he knew was Derek’s eyes furrowing in slight confusion as he frowned, before slightly shaking Stiles’ body as if he was some sort of a bowl of candy, or whatever.

Stiles, however, was still unable to snap out of his panic-induced state and then everything that happened next was a blur.

He could see Derek parting his lips, his name coming out as, “Stile-,” but before Derek had the chance to throw some other threat at him, or whatever, Stiles’ body moved on his own as he did the stupidest thing ever.

He literally headbutted Derek Hale with all his might.

The impact was so hard that he could practically see stars after Derek had let go of him with Stiles’ sliding against the wall while Derek cursed under his breath.

Despite the searing pain in his forehead which made him feel as if his head was going to split in 2, he could hear Derek’s frustrated and disbelieving voice as he muttered, “ You seriously are the biggest idiot to-“.

The rest of his statement was cut off by someone yelling and he could hear angry voices around him and then Derek was growling loudly, making goose bumps break out on his arms.

He didn’t know how much time had passed with his head pounding, but then there was just music in the distance, no roaring, or snarling and the next thing he knew his arm was being thrown over someone’s shoulder.

“ ‘Tiles?”

“Mmph,” Stiles mumbled.

“ ‘Tiles??” the worried, gentle voice said again and Stiles frowned, slurring, “ S’not ‘Tiles. ‘s ‘Iles”.

And then he giggled as if he had just said the funniest thing ever.

He could hear the exasperation of the owner of the gentle voice next to him, who said, “Come on, dude. Your dad is going to freak out, if he sees you like this.”

At the mention of his dad, Stiles finally forced his eyes to open, only to have his gaze land on a familiar face staring at him in concern.

“Scotty?” he mumbled, causing the guy to shake his head in defeat as he asked, “ Stiles, what the hell were you thinking in coming here tonight?”

Stiles frowned, annoyed that he was the one being judged right now when it was all Scott’s fault for lying to him tonight and making him follow after him.

Which is why he mumbled, “Bad Scotty. No hokey pokey with other werewolves.”

Despite the haze in his mind, he could see Scott’s eyes widening while his cheeks reddened and suddenly Stiles felt very tired, closing his eyes just for one blissful moment and letting everything become dark.

Werewolf business sure was exhausting.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I managed to finish this chapter. There will be more of Stiles x Derek interactions in the future, I promise. But, since this is a slow burn then it has to be like this.

The first sensation Stiles had felt when he woke up was a dull ache in his body.

And not the good kind.

Not that he knew what the good kind actually felt, he thought slightly bitter as he rolled over in his bed to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling in his joints.

He froze the moment his hand hit something.

Or, actually—someone.

Someone’s incredibly hot body, and not in the appearance-wise department  since Stiles still had his eyes screwed shut, and planned on keeping them that way as the panic started creeping up from his gut to his chest.

Oh shit, now he regretted his previous thought about the good kind of being sore, because he really prayed that he hadn’t done something as stupid as to hook up with someone last night and then even do the...No.

He refused to let his thoughts drift further than that.

But, as his hand tentatively crept along the body that was practically radiating heat, the alarm bells in his head kept intensifying.

The last thing he remembered was that he and Derek were arguing and that he was on the verge of having a panic attack when he realized that the bitch-faced alpha might actually harm him, or worse—give him the bite that night and then he…Holy shit.

Stiles’s eyes flew open without his permission when he had remembered that he had actually HEADBUTTED DEREK-FREAKING-HALE OF ALL PEOPLE!

He sat up in his bed quickly which was not such a smart move, since he felt slightly dizzy and his head was also throbbing.

He had completely forgotten about the stranger in his bed, too busy having a mental breakdown about the fact that the constantly angry alpha may not have murdered him yesterday, but that he sure as hell will the moment he gets a chance, until he heard a soft grunt next to him.

Okay, one crisis at a time, Stiles thought, before bracing himself to look at the person, who took his flower of innocence.

‘Pls don’t let it be a creepy old dude, pls don’t let it be a creepy old dude’, Stiles mumbled his prayers under his breath, still unable to face the guy on his bed, until he heard a very familiar voice mutter, “ Stiles? What the hell—why are you mumbling about some creepy old men?”

Stiles’ eyes widened in shock, before his gaze landed on the figure of his best friend, who was rubbing at his eyes, trying to chase away the sleepiness, his brown locks adorably messed up and tangled from sleeping which made Stiles’ shriek, “ SCOTTY!” before he crushed the boy under his weight.

“ Ow—Dude!” Scott whined as Stiles was now on top of him, his face buried in the crook of Scott’s neck as he exclaimed with relief, “You have no idea how glad I am to be waking up next to you!”

Scott sighed in defeat, which he did most of the time when dealing with Stiles, but then he patted Stiles’ back a couple of times, before saying, “ I know we are best bros, and I have nothing against occasional cuddles, but this is kind of gay.”

Stiles raised his head to look into Scott’s still sleepy eyes which okay—so adorable, before incredulously staring at him and saying, “Dude, we are a bit gay for each other, you know that, right?”

Scott seemed as if he was going to try and refute that point, but then he seemed to have given up half-way as he just slumped in the bed, mumbling, “ Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Stiles grinned at his best friend, before slowly disentangling himself from the boy, because seriously, Scott was like a furnace and Stiles was already feeling gross—having slept in the clothes he wore the previous night and all that.

Oh, hey, he thought, sort of enlightened at the moment as he looked at the clothes he was wearing.

If only he had realized sooner that he had slept fully dressed then maybe he could have prevented his mind from being on the verge of collapsing at the thought that he let some stranger take his V-card.

Oh well, what’s done is done.

And it was only then that he realized that he was not in his bed.

It was Scott’s bed.

That technically meant that he hadn’t returned home yesterday and he hadn’t even told his dad that he was going to go to Scott’s place, since he wasn’t counting on the venture to his best friend’s house turning into a kind of a stakeout mission.

“Shit, my dad—he doesn’t know that I-,” Stiles started saying, but then Scott interrupted him as he sat up as well, saying, “No worries. I texted him that you would be sleeping over.”

Stiles let out a relieved sigh, before clasping Scott on the back and saying sincerely, “Thanks, bro.”

Scott grinned widely at him, saying, “Anytime.”

A couple of minutes passed in silence after that and since Scott didn’t seem to be the one who was going to break it first, Stiles took it up on himself to do that.

“ So…,” he started hesitantly with Scott looking up and meeting his eye with a nervous look which made Stiles’s palms start sweating all of a sudden, but didn’t stop him from continuing, “ what exactly happened yesterday night?”

Scott closed his eyes for a moment, looking as if the whole weight of the world was on his shoulders, before he let out a long sigh and said in a disbelieving voice, “ You headbutted Derek.”

Stiles frowned, because yeah—he kind of knew that already.

“ Yeah, my skull feeling like it’s going to burst after hitting that werewolf head, which is apparently made of steel, is a vivid remainder of that,” Stiles remarked dryly, while bringing his fingers to his forehead to massage the pain away.

Scott gave him an unimpressed stare, but before he could say something, Stiles asked-now already feeling impatient, “I mean after that. How is it that I am still alive and breathing after that?”

The fact that Scott got this look on his face as if he was wondering the same thing did nothing to calm Stiles’ about his future.

Or well, the apparent lack of it, because he was pretty sure that one does not simply headbutt the bitchiest looking werewolf of them all and gets away with it.

“Well, I kind of…interfered,” Scott said in a hushed tone, looking away.

Stiles’ was clearly taken aback as he stared at his best friend with shocked, wide eyes, asking in an awed voice, “You actually stood up to Derek? To an alpha?”

Scott seemed to still be surprised about his course of action as well, but then as if he realized something, he looked at him determined and said, “For you, I would stand up to anyone.”

Stiles legit felt like tearing up, because that was one of the sweetest things Scott had ever said to him.

He was sure that even an actual tear escaped the corner of his right eye, because Scott seemed awkward in the next moment, slightly fidgeting.

“Dude,” Stiles enunciated, looking deeply in Scott’s eyes as he said, “ We are totally gay for each other.”

“Ew, Stiles, what the hell, you are my bro and-,” Scott started his rant, but Stiles’ just rolled his eyes and chuckled, saying, “ In the most platonic sense possibly. Trust me, I wouldn’t touch your dick either.”

Scott grimaced at the statement and Stiles laughed out loud, before continuing, “Well, unless you were badly hurt and your legs and arms were broken and there was nobody left to give you a sponge bath then I guess that I, as the AMAZING friend that I am, would totally go down on your di-,” he didn’t even get to finish his sentence, because a pillow had smacked him in the face while Scott shrieked, “DUDE!!! GROSS! TMI!”

Stiles felt offended, because here he was, telling Scott that he would not turn his back on his hairy (probably) werewolf junk when everyone else would, in order to salvage his hygiene and this was how Scott was repaying him?

RUDE.

“Back to the matter at point,” Scott said as he cleared his throat, and Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, because he was not going to forget this.

“Why were you at the nightclub yesterday?”

Stiles forgot to be offended for a moment at Scott rejecting his kind offer, as he narrowed his eyes at his best friend, who was now fidgeting.

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest, his voice unrelenting as he raised his head in a challenging manner and said, “ Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that, Mr. ‘ I have to study for the chem test that we totally do not have and I am a big fat liar’ “.

He slightly regretted being so harsh when Scott casted his gaze down, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, but then again—Stiles still felt betrayed by Scott lying to him to go and hook up with one of Derek’s shady servants.

Scott rubbed his neck awkwardly, before letting a suffering sigh as he said, “Look, I am sorry. But, I knew that if I told you that I was going to meet with Isaac that you were going to flip out and I kind of…Really wanted to see him.”

Stiles’ frown deepened even more, his voice low and accusatory as he said, “I thought you said that you don’t swing that way.”

Scott looked up at him with wide eyes as he quickly exclaimed, “I DON’T!”

When Stiles pursed his lips in a tight line at the obvious lie his best friend just uttered, Scott immediately shook his head, before hurriedly adding, “ I m-mean, I thought that I didn’t…”

His voice became quieter as he averted his gaze, not having the guts to look straight into Stiles’ eye as he continued, “ It was only a couple months ago that I realized that sometimes I also noticed the way guys were built and not just girls. At first, I thought that it was just envy and admiration that I felt and that I only looked at attractive guys’ bodies, because I wanted to look like them. But then…”

Stiles waited for Scott to continue, but when it was clear that Scott wasn’t going to finish what he was saying, Stiles prompted him by repeating, “But then…?”

Scott looked up at him slightly startled, a blush spreading on his cheeks when he said in an almost a whisper, “But then about 2 weeks ago I watched a gay porn and…I liked it.”

Stiles had no idea what to answer, but surprisingly Scott continued, saying, “And then I met Isaac and we started talking and I realized how I didn’t mind when our hands accidentally brushed, or when he would place his hand on my thigh in a comforting manner when we talked about our experiences with Peter and I…Well, I kind of figured out that I was attracted to him and then he openly showed his interest in me when he invited me to the nightclub and yeah…”

For the first time in a long time, Stiles was at a loss for words.

On one hand, he wanted to support Scott for discovering his sexuality, because he knew how much it meant to him when he told his dad and Scott that he was bi and he got a hug and comforting words in response to his big revelation.

On the other hand, he still felt betrayed at Scott lying to him and he also disapproved the fact that the guy that made Scott realize that he also swung that way was none other than one of teens from Derek Hale’s daycare center for werewolf misfit teens.

So, he did what he did best in awkward situations.

He started babbling.

“Ah, I should have seen this coming, “ Stiles began with a dramatic sigh.

“What do you mean?” Scott asked with a confused expression making Stiles chuckle sympathetically at his naiveness.

“Scott, Scotty,” Stiles said while shaking his head and placing his hand on Scott’s shoulder, who was now frowning.

“Don’t you get it?” Stiles asked, looking straight into Scott’s clueless face.

“Get what?” Scott asked warily and Stiles chuckled.

Gosh, Scott’s dumbness was sometimes too adorable, Stiles thought as he prepared himself to enlighten his best friend.

“Isn’t it obvious? I have been talking about guys, since I was 16, showing you photos of hot, hunky men and drooling over them, so it is no wonder that you got brainwashed. Also, how can you resist ogling at guys when you have the perfect specimen of a stylish, good-looking bisexual guy right in front of you.”

His best friend blinked at him, tilting his head like a puppy and asking in a puzzled expression, “Where?”

Stiles let out an indignant yelp, as he practically yelled in an offended voice, “ HERE! Right here, you IDIOT! I am the STYLISH, GOOD-LOOKING BISEXUAL GUY!”

Scott flinched a bit at his outburst, before saying, “O-oh, yeah, right, sure. I knew that,” while looking away and humming.

Stiles glared at his best friend, who was obviously trying to avoid his gaze, and how dared Scott not admit his handsome looks and instead goes and falls for that unappealing curly fries with no sense of humour??

Stiles huffed in annoyance, before spitting out, “Save it.”

He folded his arms over his chest, looking away as well while grumbling under his breath how Scott was not a true bisexual, since he apparently had no taste in men.

After a few minutes of tense silence and Stiles’s not so quiet sulking, Scott finally asked, “So…Are we good? I am really sorry for lying…I was just confused.”

In the end, Stiles noticed how miserable Scott looked and he decided to cut him some slack as he said, “ Yeah, yeah, I get it. We are good.”

Scott beamed at him, before tackling him in a bro hug which Stiles couldn’t help but return, a grin making its way to his lips at having sorted things out with his best friend.

However, he couldn’t stop the snide remark from leaving his lips as he said, “Still, I really don’t dig British curly fries for spoiling your relatively pure mind and body.”

Scott pulled away, looking at him with questioning eyes and a slight grin as he said, “British curly fries? You mean-Isaac?”

Stiles pouted slightly and said, “I stand by what I said.”

Scott let out an exasperated sigh, before chuckling and saying, “ You know, if it hadn’t been for the _British curly fries,_ then I am not sure I would have managed to stop Derek from ripping you to pieces last night.”

Stiles wasn’t convinced as he asked with a suspicious expression, “What do you mean?”

“ What I mean is that in one moment I was about to make out with Isaac,” Scott said and ignored Stiles’s disgusted expression, before continuing, “ But then I felt  the panic coursing through your blood and it was so intense that I immediately located you pinned to the wall by Derek. Before me and Isaac could move and ask what the hell was happening, you literally headbutted Derek, causing him to release his grip as he staggered back a bit with a murderous expression. After that I got so angry, thinking how he hurt you that I ran over there, yelling at him and threatening him. Of course, Derek got pissed off,  growling how I don’t know shit and what not.”

Stiles winced at that, feeling slightly guilty that Scott got on Derek’s bad side when he was kind of the one who provoked Derek in the first place with his big mouth, but then again, as he had said it before—sarcasm was his only defense while Derek liked to use his brute strength on poor, fragile humans—Stiles, so it served him right.

So, he let Scott go on, without adding anything.

Besides, there was no use mentioning something that happened in the past, Stiles wisely concluded.

“Anyways, that got me even more furious and I was just about to pounce on that dickhead when Isaac interfered, standing between us and pulling Derek away. Later, when I cleared my head I realized that I would have probably ended up in some ditch as worm food, so you should thank Isaac for keeping Derek’s wrath at bay and thus preventing him from ending our lives.”

Stiles scoffed, still not feeling convinced, but he let it slide this time.

After all, he did appreciate him and Scott still being in one piece, so he just shrugged his shoulders, saying,  “Enough werewolf talk. I am starving.”

 “I can go and get us pizza?” Scott asked, slowly getting up from the bed.

“Attaboy!” Stiles exclaimed, before smacking Scott’s butt.

Scott shot him a glare which held no real malice and Stiles just laughed, before flopping down on Scott’s warm, comfortable bed.

It sure as hell was awesome having a werewolf for a best friend, who could run to the best pizza place in town and back in only a couple of minutes, Stiles thought as he closed his eyes, his stomach grumbling with anticipation for the hot meal he was soon going to be served.

✢

“Shit,” Stiles cursed under his breath as he took a step back, watching with horror how easily Scott managed to free his right arm from the shackles.

The sound of metal falling to the floor echoed loudly in the otherwise empty locker room and Stiles was glad that it was the weekend and the middle of the night with no living soul passing in, or near the Beacon Hills high school.

With the full moon practically sneaking up on them, Stiles had to resort to the last option he had in mind for keeping Scott under control.

Since they hadn’t figured out who might be Scott’s anchor, Stiles took things into his hands and bought the strongest metal chain he could find and the longest one as well, enough to chain about 10 people, or in this case—one very angry werewolf.

Obviously, Stiles couldn’t keep Scott a prisoner in his, or Scott’s house, but he had come to the brilliant idea of chaining Scott to the metal pipes in the school locker room.

After all, nobody was even there on weekends and there were no cameras in the school, so what could possibly go wrong, Stiles had thought an hour ago as he was securing the shackles around his best friend’s wrists with an apologetic face.

He had thought that the minor obstacle they had come across a few days ago when he opened his locker to change into his lacrosse jersey for practice, totally forgetting about the chain he had in there which slipped out, much to his and Scott’s horror and coach Finstock’s as well, was the only flaw in his otherwise genius plan.

Surprisingly, or not really—since coach knew him well, Finstock just remarked then that a part of him wanted to know what the hell that was for, but a bigger part of him was afraid to ask.

And then he just walked away, pretending he saw nothing, causing Scott and Stiles to let out relieved sighs.

However, the fear of getting caught then and of Scott’s secret being out was nothing compared to the way his heart was painfully hitting his chest now as he watched his best friend, who was completely wolfed out with fur covering his deformed face, large claws sticking from his hairy fingers and toes, thrashing and trying to get free.

Stiles was completely at a loss what to do next, because he was so sure that those chains would be able to hold Scott down.

_You will regret this Stiles! And then it will be too late!_

Derek’s words spoken in this same place—ironically, flew through his head and he bit his lower lip, annoyed that it seemed that the bitch-faced alpha turned out to be right.

Before he could ponder on his own stupidity even further, Scott’s voice snapped him back to the reality he was in.

“Stiles…”

Stiles widened his eyes at Scott’s gruff voice, staring at his best friend who had stopped trying to set himself free, his head lowered.

Maybe he had regained control over himself, Stiles thought hopefully as he made a step forward, his voice hesitant as he said, “Hey, buddy is every—,” but he stopped the moment Scott’s eyes met his.

He felt dread rushing through his body as Scott’s eyes flashed bright yellow, his canines long and sharp, his voice strained as he growled, “RUN!”

Usually, Stiles would argue.

This time, however, he didn’t need to be told twice, as his legs started moving on their own with him bursting through the door of the locker room and rushing to get out of the school before he becomes werewolf food.

He didn’t dare turn around, despite the sounds of chains being broken reverberating behind him and instead he kept on running, ignoring the burning in his legs and the frantic beating of his heart.

Somehow, driven by the surge of adrenaline, he managed to reach the school exit.

He practically slammed his body into the door which was luckily unlocked as he found himself on the school parking lot.

Shit, he was so preoccupied with escaping from the locker room that he didn’t even realize that he took the wrong route and now he was behind of the school instead of in front.

He turned around, thinking how there was no way that he could go back with Scott roaming the school hallways in his mad state.

Stiles quickly scanned his surroundings, cursing under his breath that the parking lot was empty until his eyes landed on the school bus—the only vehicle left there.

It will have to do, Stiles thought with determination as he forced his legs to move to the mustard coloured mean of transportation which he stopped being familiar with after his 16th birthday when his dad finally allowed him to drive his mom’s jeep.

Other than the sentimental value that the jeep carried, it was also a symbol of him stepping into the world of adults with his dad believing that he would be responsible enough to take care of one of the few treasured physical objects that his mom left behind after her death.

Stiles felt tears gathering at the corner of his eyes as he suddenly remembered his mom, but a snarl coming from inside the school made him blink away his tears.

Now was not the time for sadness, he thought as he climbed into the school bus which was surprisingly unlocked.

Well, Stiles figured that nobody would steal that piece of shit anyways and the bus driver probably knew that as well which was why he didn’t even bother with securing the doors.

Stiles was grateful for that at the very moment as he crawled on the floor of the bus, before stopping in the middle.

He placed a hand on his chest to calm his racing heart as he closed his eyes and started counting backwards from 100.

He figured that all he had to do was lay low and wait another few hours for the full moon to pass while hoping that Scott wouldn’t find him during that time and use him as a chewing toy.

He honestly didn’t want to serve as werewolf toothpick and also he knew that Scott would never forgive himself if he hurt him, despite the fact that Scott was definitely not his true self in that moment.

He didn’t dare look through the window no matter how much he wanted to and for a moment everything was quiet.

Too quiet, he thought as he opened and narrowed his eyes.

Before he could do something else, a loud howl made his blood run cold.

His body froze as he stared ahead, watching the werewolf slowly climbing into the school bus.

His breath hitched as Scott’s, no—that wasn’t Scott, that was a complete stranger he concluded as he found no sign of recognition in those eyes filled with apparent bloodlust.

He started backing away, his heart pumping as he never took his eyes of the creature that took over his best friend.

He felt so many things in that moment, but most of all he felt anger.

It churned within him, reminding him what an idiot he was for not researching more about the full moon and for not coming up with a plan B in case all of this went to hell, just like it did.

He couldn’t believe that he was so sure of himself, so absorbed with the fact that he reading a few books on werewolves made him some sort of an expert for their kind, causing him to put Scott in this state in which he obviously had no control of his actions.

It was because of his self-confidence that they were now in this situation and Stiles clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles became white with how pissed off he was at himself for putting his best friend in this situation.

Never mind him, but if Scott hurts someone else tonight in this state then Stiles would never ever be able to forgive himself for being such a stubborn jerk and not even considering the fact that Derek Hale might actually know more than him on this werewolf matter.

Before he could dive further into self-hatred, Stiles’s back hit something.

When he turned around he realized with terror that he had reached the back door of the bus which was unfortunately locked unlike the front door.

Fuck.

His breath came out in rapid puffs of air as he realized with horror that the fury creature was now two steps away from him, eyeing him hungrily.

“S-scott,” Stiles started saying, his voice thin and laced with apparent fear.

He cleared his throat and tried again when he saw that the werewolf in front of him showed no sign of familiarity at his own name.

“Buddy, it’s me. Stiles, your best bro. Well, maybe not after you transform back to your true self and decide that you hate me for fucking up, but come on dude. You know me. Half of my plans turn out for the worse, so it’s not like you didn’t know there was a possibility of this happening tonight.”

Stiles knew that he was ranting now to buy himself time and he realized that the hairy creature in front of him was now watching him with a tilted head.

It reminded him so much of Scott’s confused expression when he went on many of his rants that he felt a spark of hope blooming in his chest, thinking how he might just be able to reach his best friend.

That was why he said, “Scott, please, this isn’t you” his voice cracking at the last syllable.

For a moment, he was sure that his words had reached Scott when the werewolf blinked at him, as if having understood what he said.

But then, everything happened in a blur.

Scott let out an ear-shattering howl, causing Stiles to scream as he covered his eyes with his hands when the werewolf pounced on him without a second thought.

The next thing he knew, his back hit the cold asphalt, the impact knocking the air out of his lungs, causing him to gasp as he struggled to inhale.

When he finally managed to breathe in, he opened his eyes, regretting his decision to do so in the very next moment.

The werewolf was looming over him, his clawed fingers on the ground on both sides of his face, his upper lip pulled over his scary sharp teeth, the drool dripping from the corner of his mouth on Stiles’s favourite red hoodie as the hairy creature’s chest rumbled with a threatening growl.

Stiles had his eyes open wide, staring in shock at the werewolf above him and not being able to believe that this was in fact his best friend, glaring at him with those unnaturally yellow eyes, the murderous intent in them apparent.

Stiles felt sick.

His thoughts were a mess, his back throbbing from pain, his heart slamming against his ribcage as he felt panic taking over him.

He couldn’t believe that he was going to die.

And by the hand of his best friend no less.

And there was no one to blame but himself.

Well, that was not entirely true, because if it hadn’t been for that sicko Peter then Scott wouldn’t be looking at him like he was a tasty snack right now.

Before he could curse that bastard even more, the werewolf above him leaned in, opening his mouth wide and causing Stiles to squeeze his eyes shut as he screamed, “ NOOOO, SCOTT!!!!”

In that moment something whooshed above him so fast that all he could do was feel a cold gust of wind before he forced himself to open his eyes.

There was no Scott growling at him anymore, but there was whining and snarling coming from the side, a few feet away from him.

When he looked to the side he saw Scott crouched on the school parking lot, looking like a kicked puppy while there was a tall figure in a black leather jacket looming over him.

Stiles couldn’t see who it was, but the words still left his lips, before he could stop himself.

“D-derek?”

The man, or better yet—the werewolf, in question turned to face him, his face wolfed out like Scott’s, but the difference being that his eyes were coloured bloody red and filled with clear anger, but also laced with irritation and exasperation.

When the werewolf offered no response, as usual, Stiles asked in a whisper, “H-how?”

No human would have been able to hear his question, but then again the only human there in that moment was him.

“I already told you. I am the alpha.”

Derek practically spat those words at him, his eyes rigid, as he turned to Scott once again, before grabbing him by his neck and hauling him away in just a few seconds, leaving Stiles all alone.

Stiles shivered, not knowing if it was because he was suddenly very cold, or as a reaction to everything that had happened.

All that he knew was that he fucked up big time, if Derek Hale actually had to step forward and save him.

But then again, Stiles was sure that Derek did it for Scott’s sake and not because he actually wanted to save Stiles.

Stiles was pretty sure that Derek wouldn’t have even batted an eyelash if it was some other werewolf wanting to use Stiles as a midnight snack.

However, Scott was not just any werewolf and stopping him from hurting his best friend was enough for Derek to get into Scott’s good books.

That thought caused Stiles to shudder again as he slowly picked himself up and started making his way out of the school.

✢

Stiles didn’t get a wink of sleep that night.

He kept wondering how Scott was doing and where exactly Derek had taken him.

It was only in the morning that he couldn’t take it anymore and decided to send Scott a text message.

He was boring holes in his cell-phone, staying still for a whole hour, without moving.

When he got no response he threw his phone to the bed and went to take a shower and clear his mind a bit.

It didn’t really help calm his tortured mind and the fact that he got no response even after a few hours, caused him to anxiously bite his nails as he sat at the kitchen counter, thinking about his next course of action.

He knew that he couldn’t go to Scott’s house, since they told his mom that Scott would be spending the night at his house while they told Stiles’s dad that they would be at Scott’s.

It was easier that way, since his father had the night shift anyways and wouldn’t be able to catch them in their lie and it wasn’t like they could exactly tell their parents that they would be spending the night tying Scott up with chains to prevent him from harming someone.

Stiles let out a loud grunt as he buried his face in his hands, not knowing what to do.

In the end he spent the whole day walking around the house like a lifeless zombie.

He figured that Derek managed to keep Scott under control, remembering the way Scott had curled his tail between his legs (literally) when Derek used his  usual “I am the alpha and you will fuckin’ listen to me” macho status.

Still, that didn’t make Stiles feel any better about the whole thing.

In the end, the one thing that he wanted to avoid—Derek being right, was exactly what happened.

When his father finally got home in the evening, asking how his ‘hang-out’ with Scott went, Stiles just grunted,” Fine,” before excusing himself from dinner, saying how he was feeling tired.

It wasn’t a lie per se, he thought as his body hit his soft mattress, feeling himself getting slowly lulled to sleep.

It was about half an hour later when he was just about to fall asleep that his cell phone chimed, signaling a new message.

He was so surprised that in his attempt to grab his phone from the nightstand next to his bed, he fell to the floor with a painful grunt.

“Stiles, are you okay?”

His dad’s slightly concerned voice travelled from downstairs and Stiles screamed back, ‘ ‘m FINE, DAD!”

He proceeded to read Scott’s reply to his text message, his breath coming out in shaky puffs.

_7:03_

_Dude, r u ok?? I am freaking out here. Pls, call me._

_23:54_

_I’m…Better. Can’t talk to you now. I need some time alone, pls understand._

 

Stiles felt a pang in his chest at that last sentence from Scott when another message came.

_23:55_

_Also, I am joining Derek’s pack. Don’t try to talk me out of it, cuz this is final. I think that after yesterday, we both know that this is the only solution._

Stiles stared at the message, not breathing.

He wanted to scream in frustration and call Scott and yell at him how it was not the only solution, but…He had no other alternative to offer to his best friend at the moment.

Especially not after having failed to provide adequate support to Scott the previous night.

He hit his head on the floor, gritting his teeth and feeling helpless.

“Son, are you sure everything is alright?!”

His dad’s voice once again reached his ears, worry lacing it.

“No, it really is not,” Stiles whispered to himself in a defeated voice.

✢

Stiles weaved his way through the crowd of students chattering about their plans for the weekend, or how much homework they had to do on the weekend, making Stiles wish to be like that as well again.

No matter how cool he found the werewolf stuff in the beginning, now he desperately wanted to go back to those carefree times when the biggest concern he and Scott had was if they were ever going to be noticed by Lydia and Allison.

More than anything, he wanted to go back to that time when his best friend wasn’t avoiding him for days now, causing him to jog after him in this moment, having spotted the back of Scott’s head when the bell rang a few seconds ago, signifying the end of school for today.

When he lost sight of Scott, he actually ran towards the door, practically bursting through the school entrance, his lips parting in a half-yell, “ Sc…ott”.

The rest of Scott’s name died on his tongue when he caught sight of his best friend bumping his hip into the hip of one tall, curly werewolf, who flashed Scott an annoyingly charming smile while throwing an arm over his shoulder and pulling him into a sleek, black Camaro parked in front of their high school, catching the attention of all of the students.

Another thing that most certainly caught their—and Stiles’s, attention was also the man sitting in the driver’s seat of the sex on 4 wheels.

His expression was one of pure irritation as he probably glared at the two teenage boys sitting in the back seat of his ridiculously extravagant car, before he turned to the front, his arm casually resting on the steering wheel, his hair perfectly styled as always and seriously Stiles was dying to know what hair product the alpha used, since his hair was always on fleek.

Stiles immediately ran his hand through his light brown locks which had gotten longer during the past few weeks, with him not even having time to think about, let alone get an actual haircut with all the crazy werewolf business he was involved in.

Emphasis on ‘was’, Stiles thought with a sudden sharp feeling in his chest, as if somebody was stabbing a knife through his heart, as he ruffled his wild hair strands which never seemed to stay in place no matter how much he combed them, or how much hair gel he used to tame them.

That was why he needed Derek Hale’s magical hair product a.s.a.p.

But then again, there were far more important things to be taken care of, than finding out the secret to Derek’s 24/7 perfect hairstyle, although it was still on his list of priorities, Stiles thought, before finally forcing his hand to stop messing with his strands which were now tangled in little knots.

He was brought out of his hair-crisis stupor when he heard the purring of the engine of Derek’s obnoxious car and when he looked in that direction, he realized that he had once more missed a chance to talk to Scott.

As if sensing that he was being watched, the alpha suddenly looked his way, staring straight into his eyes.

This was the first time that Stiles saw the alpha since that night at the parking lot and since Scott announced that he was joining Derek’s pack through a text message no less.

Actually, Stiles’ could only guess that Derek was looking at his face, since the alpha, despite his stupidly awesome leather jacket which he almost never took off, now had a pair of classic black ray bans, making him look even more badass.

Asshole.

Stiles blinked once when Derek’s gaze was on him and for some reason he felt nervous.

That feeling was quickly replaced by absolute outrage when the werewolf flashed his pearly teeth at him in a smug smirk as he subtly nodded his head to the back of his car as if saying, ‘ See, puny human? In the end I win and Scott is mine while you are pathetic, alone and friendless’.

Stiles clenched his fists as Derek looked ahead and drove off, leaving a cloud of gray smoke behind him, making the girls gush how cool that guy was while the guys looked disgruntled.

Stiles was more than disgruntled.

He was positively FUMING!

One of his biggest flaws, but also his best qualities—depending on the situation, was his sheer stubbornness.

That was precisely why he wasn’t going to be so easily defeated by some sourwolf with amazing hair.

He slung his bag over his shoulder as he took decisive steps to one place he knew Scott was going to be tonight where he wouldn’t be able to keep away from him.

The trip to the vet clinic was surprisingly short and it probably had something to do with Stiles walking super fast, as if someone was chasing him.

By the time he arrived at the back door of the clinic, he was even more livid, just thinking about Derek’s pompous look at having ‘stolen’ Scott from him that he started cursing the older werewolf under his breath as he raised his hand to open the door.

However, before he even managed to touch the door knob, a gust of wind suddenly appeared out of nowhere, engulfing his raised arm, causing the door to fly open with such violence that it slammed the wall behind it and made the dogs in the cages bark loudly in alarm.

Stiles froze on the spot, his arm still in the air, his eyes wide with shock.

“Well, well—quite a spark you got there, Mr. Stilinski. Who would have thought…”

Stiles abruptly turned around when he heard those words spoken behind him in a low, amused voice with shock still written all over his face at what had just happened.

“ S-spark?” Stiles echoed, his voice shaky as he blinked his wide eyes at the bald man flashing him a mysterious smile.

“Yes, spark,” the man, also known as Scott’s boss, gave him another smile, before walking past him into the clinic and casually glancing at the damage Stiles had caused to the door.

“Now, why don’t you come in, so we can have a little chat. And, oh, please refrain yourself from using magic this time. After all, it wouldn’t be wise for ordinary humans to see what you are capable of…,” the vet said over his shoulder, already having entered the clinic.

Magic?! What he is capable of?!

Stiles blinked two times in confusion, his eyes going wide once again, before a wide grin spread over his face because HELL YEAH!

He hurried after Scott’s boss, whom he had the pleasure of only meeting twice in his life, very briefly when he had rescued some dog from spending a night in the cold.

In the end, it turned out that he had actually accidentally stolen a dog from some old lady, who came into the vet’ s office after Scott’s boss recognized the puppy and called her in.

Stiles just barely managed to dodge receiving a hit in the face when the old lady started whirling her wooden cane at him while threatening him after he made a remark that it was no wonder that he thought the puppy was homeless when she was so careless as to let him roam around the neighbourhood without the collar or anything.

This time, however, he was sure that he was going to receive more than an unimpressed look from the vet, judging by the twinkling in his dark brown eyes when he realized that Stiles was sparkly, or, sparky, or whatever it was that his awesome magical abilities were called.

Ha, take that Derek Hale, Stiles thought with a self-satisfied smile as he followed the vet, Deaton—was it, Stiles tried to remember the guy’s name, before slowly closing the door behind him.

He was so going to get his best friend back and away from the clutches of that irritable guy.

And how?

Well, with the power of MAGIC, of course, because yeah—apparently he was freaking magical!


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year in advance! ^^

In the end, Stiles didn’t get to see Scott at Deaton’s clinic.

It wasn’t because Scott showed up and then sprinted away like crazy when he realized Stiles was there, waiting for him.

No.

Nothing dramatic like that.

Surprisingly, Stiles had completely forgotten about his purpose of confronting his best friend there when he did the whole ‘making the door fly open’ magic thingy.

After that had happened, Stiles was practically bursting with excitement and curiosity as he followed Scott’s boss into the clinic, expecting to enter a whole new world in which he would be special for being magical.

A world in which he wouldn’t have to feel so inferior to dark and brooding werewolves, who were only capable of slamming people—Stiles, into solid surfaces when they stumbled upon those who would question their decisions and motives, instead of blindly following after them, because of their intimidating aura and alpha status.

Also, he was so sure it would be a world in which he would definitely prove himself to be much more interesting and more capable of doing all sorts of cool things than some curly haired werewolf, who got on his nerves by making his best friend totally lust-struck and ready to forget everything else—Stiles in a heartbeat.

He was so ready to hear all of that from the bald man that he stood gaping like a goldfish for probably 2 minutes when Scott’s boss announced that everyone had ‘the spark’.

Ouch, Stiles had thought, saying goodbye to his thoughts of being ‘special’.

Deaton, either didn’t notice his disappointment at that moment, or just wasn’t particularly a sympathetic man, as he continued explaining to Stiles about how obviously everyone had the affinity for magic.

Well, okay, those weren’t Deaton’s exact words, but Stiles might have been a bit bitter about not being the chosen on, so excuse his exaggeration.

What Deaton did say was that while everyone had the spark, not everyone could use magic.

Stiles didn’t quite get it at first and when he practically whined for the older man to elaborate, the dude just sent him a cryptic smile which annoyed Stiles to no end, since the mysterious expression seemed to be the vet’s default state, just like glowering was Derek’s.

Somehow, or rather—caused by Stiles’s persistence, Deaton caved in and with a suffering sigh explained to Stiles that while any human could create barriers with  the ‘mountain ash’ which was apparently some magical powder which could be a good defense against werewolves, who could not cross over it, not every human was capable of doing more than that.

According to Deaton, Stiles had that magical element as well which he believed that with proper training could make Stiles be capable of telekinesis just like what happened with the door which he opened just by using the power of his mind.

The problem was that he had no idea how he did that and it didn’t seem like he was going to get any more answers that day from the bald man, who gave him 2 large books which probably weighed about a ton and would cause him a hernia, and ushered him outside, saying to come back when he reads them.

Stiles didn’t even get to argue, because the door was practically slammed in his face.

He tried to open them again by using his magic, but nothing happened and after standing there like an idiot for 10 minutes while glaring at the door with no luck, he decided to dejectedly drag his feet home while trying not to die from carrying those books which weighed as if there were bricks inside of them and not paper.

It was only when he was halfway home that he had remembered wanting to wait up for Scott at Deaton’s.

He stopped and frowned, wondering if he should go back, but then decided against it.

After all, he was still just some human, who had no power to help Scott and also, it didn’t seem like Scott wanted his help anyways.

At least not when he was surrounded by powerful werewolves with superb looks, Stiles thought while trying to swallow down the acrid taste in his throat.

Another thing that he regretted was not asking Deaton to get him that mountain ash thingy in bulk, for the next time Derek decides to slam him into some wall, tree, or whatever firm surface is available for crushing Stiles’s fragile body against it.

He was positive that Derek would be pretty surprised if Stiles whipped out that powder and threw it into his furry face, watching the usually ‘nothing gets to me’ alpha choking on it.

Okay, so Stiles had no idea if it could cause the werewolves to actually choke on it, but hey—a guy could hope.

Deaton did say that in order for that mountain ash to work against werewolves, the one who uses it has to believe in it, has to believe that it will work and Stiles was pretty sure that he could do that.

Piece of cake.

There was nothing better than imagining it working and making Derek The Most Obnoxious One of All the Furry Ones Hale struggle for breath and beg for Stiles to put him out of his misery.

Stiles was grinning so widely at that thought that his dad actually gave him a surprised look when he entered the house.

“Something good happened today?” his dad had asked, making Stiles shake his head, saying “ Nope.”

“But it will. I will make sure of it,” Stiles said and he was sure that his grin got even wider, since the corner of his lips started to hurt from being so stretched out.

“Good for you, kiddo,” his dad said with a warm smile and as Stiles’s climbed upon the stairs, he mumbled to himself in a slightly psychotic voice, “ Oh, it will be good indeed. Trust me.”

His desire for some sort of revenge on Derek and his pack for taking Scott away from him might have gotten a bit out of control at that moment as he immediately started reading the first of the two books the vet had given him.

It was only then that he realized that he hadn’t even asked Deaton how he knew about all of that magical stuff.

He blinked a few times, thinking how he was probably not a werewolf, but he seemed so calm when he told him about magic and mountain ash and how it affected werewolves and—oh, shit.

Stiles’s eyes widened in horror when he became aware of the fact that Deaton knew about werewolves which meant he probably figured out that Scott was one too.

But then, why did he never mention it to Scott before?

Stiles shivered involuntarily, wondering just who and what in the hell was that Deaton guy??!

✢

Stiles barely listened to his math teacher droning about differential equations as he rubbed his eyes for the nth time in the last 15 minutes in an attempt to get rid of strong the urge to just rest his forehead on his desk, close his eyes and drift to the sweet land of dreams.

Last night he didn’t even get a wink of sleep, too absorbed in going over the books Deaton gave him to study.

He just wanted to read all of them as soon as possible, so that he would be able to go to the older man and finally be taught some badass magic spells, or something like that.

However, no matter how many hours he had spent going over those dusty, old pages, the book seemed to be never-ending.

He spent the whole night reading and yet he didn’t even manage to go over half of the first book.

The worst part was that the other book had even more pages!

Also, besides every cell in his body screaming for him to get some sleep, he had no idea why Deaton had given him those books in the first place.

They were filled with various info on all sorts of supernatural creatures, and while Stiles might have been in a sort of a daze when he realized that even vampires were real when he came across the short paragraph about the ‘blood suckers’ as they were commonly called by people, there was nothing there which would indicate how he was supposed to develop his magical abilities.

Also, he wasn’t even sure how strong his powers were, or how he was supposed to make them work again.

He needed answers and the only person who could provide him with them was the same person who was making him spend a sleepless night absorbing information which were in no relation to him.

He groaned in frustration, before finally letting his head fall to the desk, bumping it a bit too loud in the otherwise quiet classroom.

That earned him a glare from his math teacher and a few snickers from other students.

Whatever, he had more important things on his mind than paying attention to the curriculum he was already familiar with.

He ducked his head in embarrassment, while twirling his pen between his fingers absent-mindedly.

The one piece of information he came across in the book did make him curious.

There was a paragraph describing sources of magical powers which are like magnets drawing supernatural creatures to themselves.

It was said that anyone with some kind of a supernatural ability would be able to feel the constant pull towards that source, especially when being close to the ‘Nemeta’ which was how that source of power was called.

Stiles wondered if he found that source, if it would be able to bring out his magical abilities.

He contemplated whether he should ask Deaton about it, but somehow he had a suspicion that the mysterious man wouldn’t tell him were that source is.

Somehow, he seemed like the kind of man who didn’t give many answers and instead gave some cryptic illusions in order for that someone to figure things out on their own.

That kind of irked Stiles, so he didn’t want to bother going to the vet for help.

Instead, when the bell rang, he decided that he couldn’t waste his time in school.

Not when there were more important things waiting for him in his bedroom—like thousands of pages in which there might be an answer to some of his many question.

That was why he didn’t hesitate in going to the infirmary and faking a cough to get excused from the rest of his classes by the school nurse.

Surprisingly, she believed him almost instantly when she remarked how ‘pale and awful’ he looked.

Well, at least his sleepless night served him to get out of school for the rest of the day, he thought with a self-satisfied grin as he rushed to his jeep parked in front of the school.

He was in such a rush to get to his jeep that he tripped on his feet a few times, almost ending up sprawled on the concrete that he didn’t even notice a pair of eyes watching him with worry a few feet away.

✢

Stiles couldn’t believe that he thought these books were mostly useless at first.

Oh, how utterly wrong he had been, he thought as he flipped another page, his eyes landing with utmost interest on the chapter on werewolves.

Finally, he thought with excitement as he scanned over the beautifully drawn pictures of a black wolf howling at the moon on top of some hill.

After managing to skip most of his classed the previous day, the moment Stiles took the book in his hands, he hadn’t put it down, except for when he needed to go to the bathroom.

Even then he debated if he should take the book with him, but somehow he felt as if the book would know that he ‘did his business’ while reading it and that made him slightly wary, so he didn’t want to risk it.

In the end, he only got three hours of sleep that night and when he woke up, all groggy and disoriented with his father shaking his shoulders to get him out of bed, Stiles just shivered and mumbled in his sleepy state, “ No…’m not feeling well.’

He didn’t really mean it at that moment, although he was feeling sleep-deprived, but apparently his voice and state must have been really horrible, because the next thing he knew was his dad’s hand  resting on his forehead, checking for his temperature.

That finally made him blink at his dad in confusion and he immediately felt guilty when he saw the look of worry on the Sheriff’s face.

He was just about to tell his dad he was exaggerating when the Sheriff said, “You do seem a bit warm. And you are paler than usual. You might be coming down with something. I think you should stay at home today.”

Stiles widened his eyes in surprise at his dad and although he did feel slightly guilty for making his father worried, his greedy desire to stay at home in order to read more won over his guilt and he fake-coughed and weakly said, “Okay, dad. If you insist.”

He may have been a tad dramatic, because his father rolled his eyes and snorted, “ Yeah, I insist,” as if he had finally realized that his son’s ‘weak condition’ may have been more an act than the real state of things.

Nevertheless, his dad said nothing else as he ruffled his hair and said, “Rest, kiddo.”

Stiles grinned at his dad, who chuckled exasperatedly before leaving his bedroom.

Stiles really loved his dad, he thought as he immediately grabbed the book hidden beneath his bed and continued reading where he had left off.

**_“ Witches”_ **

Oh, this should be fun, Stiles thought as his eyes excitedly scanned over the title of the chapter he was about to read.

✢

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

An angry growl coming just a few feet behind him had Stiles dropping his flashlight and letting out a loud shriek.

A very manly shriek, just to be clear.

“You scream like a girl,” a familiar, annoying voice behind him stated with a scoff.

Oh, right.

Stupid Derek just had to witness his embarrassing moment.

Just great.

Still, despite his humiliation, Stiles wasn’t the one to back out as he turned around to face the irritating alpha while trying to will down his heart to calm down as he said with a snort,” Yeah, well, I am sure you made many people scream with that scary face of yours.”

It wasn’t one of his best comebacks and Stiles knew that, but it was better than not saying anything and admitting defeat.

However, when Derek’s gaze darkened slightly as he said in a deep voice, “Only with pleasure,” while the corner of his lips twitched in an almost amused smirk, Stiles couldn’t help but gape at the werewolf in front of him.

Of all the things that he had expected Derek to do like snarl at him, or slam him to a tree, or telling him to shut up, the one thing that had never crossed his mind was the possibility of Derek Hale actually making a sexual innuendo like WTH?!!!

He was too stupefied by this sudden side of the usually surly werewolf that he didn’t even notice when Derek took a step towards him.

It was only when Derek repeated his question in a threatening voice that he snapped out of his daze and realized the situation he was in.

“I asked you what the hell you were doing here?”

Stiles met Derek’s gaze which was now hard, his lips pursed and arms crossed over his chest as he waited for Stiles to answer.

Obviously, the grump was pretty impatient, which came as no surprise to Stiles judging by Derek’s  ‘lovely’ personality, with Stiles’s lack of response that he let out a low growl, followed by a ,” Answer me!”

Stiles may have almost peed his pants at that, but he didn’t let his fear show as he crossed his arms over his chest, looking away and rolling his eyes as he calmly said, “What, can’t a guy take a nice relaxing stroll in the woods?”

“Not at midnight and especially not if the guy is you, the nosiest of them all.”

Derek’s response was instant and Stiles would have felt offended at that response if it wasn’t…Well, kind of true.

He was aware of his insatiable curiosity which was how he even got poor Scott involved in this whole werewolf mess.

If only he hadn’t dragged Scott to go looking for that body on that cursed night, then none of this would have happened.

But, before he could let his guilt flood his body, he clenched his fist, remembering how there was no going back now and he had one short-tempered alpha to deal with right now.

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business what I am doing here. It’s not like you own the woods, “ Stiles challenged.

He felt his fake bravado crumbling a bit when Derek’s serious expression was replaced by some sort of a smug one as he said in a confident voice, “As a matter of fact, I do.”

“What?” Stiles asked in a clueless voice, causing Derek’s stupidly beautiful eyes to flash with absolute superiority as he replied, “You are standing on Hale property. And I don’t want you here.”

Stiles looked at him, feeling dumbfounded at that new information as he said, “Oh.”

Surprisingly, he had no idea what to say, because this was definitely a major obstacle in getting to the source of something supernatural which kept pulling him there.

He spent most of his Friday ‘resting’ like his dad told him which when translated to Stiles’s language  that actually meant his dad telling him to read for most of the afternoon and then sneak out of the house at night to go looking for the ‘Nemeta’.

He was so sure that if he got to that place, he would get more in touch with his magic, but of course, life just had to interfere with his plans by dumping this lurker of a werewolf in his way.

Stiles let out a sigh, thinking how he should probably give up, but somehow that word was not in his vocabulary.

For fuck’s sake, he got out of the safety of his warm home, threading through these scary woods at night with nothing by a flashlight and he would be damned to let one werewolf stand in his way, no matter how scary he was right now while emitting his murderous aura.

He knew that there would be no point in arguing with Derek, so he tried something different.

Something completely new.

A pleasant approach.

“Look, I really need to check something, so can you just let me?  I promise not to piss on your sacred territory and mark it as my own.”

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have said that last part about pissing, judging by the flash of red in Derek’s eyes.

After all, wolves were super territorial as he read, so yeah, but fuck it.

It was too hard asking Derek something nicely that he just couldn’t resist adding that little innocent remark.

Derek didn’t seemed to appreciate it though, because he obviously had no sense of humour, as he materialized in front of him in an instant, grabbing the front of his hoodie.

Stiles expected to be pinned to the tree, or thrown to the ground, but this time Derek opted for the approach which included lifting Stiles slightly off the ground as he yanked him forward until their noses were almost touching.

Stiles barely managed not to gulp when he was met with Derek’s piercing stare as the alpha practically growled out his words at him.

“I don’t know what you are up to and I don’t care. Scott’s not here, so don’t bother.”

Scott?

Stiles blinked at him in confusion, wondering why Derek was mentioning Scott and then it hit him.

The stupid idiot probably thought that Stiles came to what—take away Scott, or beg him to leave the pack and then of course Derek got all pissy.

How ridiculous, Stiles thought, when it was actually the other way around.

Derek was the one who stole Scott from him and if anyone should be pissing on Scott and marking him as theirs it should be Stiles, since he was in Scott’s life first, much before the furry ones.

Ew, but did he really just use the metaphor about pissing on his best friend, Stiles wondered with disgust.

It was only when he heard the low rumble that he realized he still hasn’t said anything and Derek looked like he was one second away from strangling him.

But then again, when did he not look like that when dealing with Stiles?

Nevertheless, Stiles just shook his head and said, “Dude, I am not here for Scott. Not everything in my life revolves around him, ya know?”

He wondered how true that last part was, but he still stood his ground.

After all, it was true that tonight he didn’t go into the dark forest for Scott and it seemed that Derek figured out he wasn’t lying as he stared at him for a few more moments with a calculating gaze, before releasing him with an annoyed huff.

Stiles actually stumbled a few steps back when his feet hit the ground again, but before he could complain about ‘werewolf brutality’, Derek said, “Whatever the reason is, you are not welcome on my land. Now, get lost and don’t come back, because I won’t be so merciful the next time.”

Merciful??

Stiles wanted to laugh at that blatant lie that left Derek’s mouth, but he decided not to test his luck anymore as he met Derek’s threatening gaze.

He ran his hands over his hoodie, before letting out a defeated sigh and bending down to grab his flashlight.

He turned around without a word and dejectedly walked away, ignoring the prickling feeling at the back of his neck at being watched by that stupid werewolf.

That uncomfortable feeling disappeared only when he was out of the words and he cursed under his breath.

How in the hell was he supposed to get in touch with his magic now that he was practically forbidden from entering the forest again?

It was as if Derek Hale existed only to make his life more miserable than it was before, he thought solemnly, before dragging his feet home.

After all, he didn’t want his dad to get a heart attack when he came home from his shift and noticed that his only son was not in bed in the middle of the night.

✢

Stiles had been so immersed in reading about the supernatural that he hadn’t even heard the doorbell ring.

It was only when his dad yelled, “Stiles! You have a visit!” that he frowned, before closing his book.

He had no idea who could be visiting him, especially on a Saturday morning and he was just about to ask who it was as he shoved the book under his bed when the door of his bedroom opened.

He widened his eyes slightly as he was met with a sheepish face of his best friend.

Well, he wasn’t even sure about the title ‘best’ since he hasn’t talked to Scott in like forever.

Or, to be precise, Scott hadn’t talked to him and in fact he had been doing just the opposite of that.

Stiles pursed his lips as he narrowed his eyes and coldly asked, “What do _you_ want?”

He didn’t even feel guilty when Scott flinched at his hostile tone of voice while looking at him slightly startled.

Whatever, he totally deserved it for acting like an asshole this past week.

“You weren’t in school yesterday,” Scott remarked quietly.

Stiles rolled his eyes as he said in a mocking voice, “Such an acute observation, Mr. McCall. Anything else?”

Scott definitely looked like a deer caught in headlights after that comment and Stiles was pretty sure that he was going to dash out of there and never come back, but then again it wasn’t like Scott hadn’t been doing that for the past week, so Stiles kind of got used to it.

He was almost used to the way something sharp went through his chest every time his best friend would act as if he was invisible, or duck whenever he noticed that Stiles was approaching him.

What was that sensation called?

Ah, yes.

Pain.

Not an unfamiliar feeling to Stiles, he thought as he still glared at Scott, who seemed as if he was thinking of what to do next.

Finally, he looked determined as he took a step forward and closed the door behind him.

 “Look, I know we haven’t really seen much of each other these days, but I—“

Stiles didn’t give him the chance to finish as he spat out, “No, Scott. I have seen you plenty of times. It’s just that you pretended not to see me.”

The look of hurt on Scott’s face in that moment would have made Stiles run to his friend to comfort him, but his own sense of hurt caused by that same person prevented him from doing so.

Instead, he just kept giving Scott his judgmental stare.

“Stiles, you have to understand me,” Scott started in a desperate voice, continuing, “ I almost killed you that night. You. My best friend. And I remembered all of it later. The fear in your eyes, the way you pleaded for me to stop. The way I had no intention of doing so then. I felt so ashamed and horrible after that that I couldn’t possibly face you.”

Stiles did understand.

He understood it the moment Scott had sent that text telling him how he needed some time and how he was joining Derek’s pack despite everything.

However, what he did not understood was the way his best friend chose to distance himself from Stiles in order to get that time alone.

That was why Stiles said in an accusatory voice, “Oh, I understand, Scott. I understand perfectly that you felt guilty. I did too. Because, after all, it was my fault that I haven’t prepared better for the night of the full moon.”

When Scott seemed as if he was going to protest, Stiles just raised his hand in air to stop him from interrupting him.

Scott reluctantly closed his mouth and Stiles continued.

“What I don’t understand is how you chose to go about things. Because, you see, I never expected that you needing some time alone meant avoiding me like I have the plague.”

Stiles saw the shocked expression on Scott’s face, but he continued nevertheless.

He had to get this off his chest.

“Also, I didn’t know that joining Derek’s pack meant forgetting completely about someone you had been friends with since childhood. And while you did get a werewolf boyfriend and a grumpy driver in leather jacket driving you two in his sleek Camaro, I wish you would have remembered that I was still human and that besides you, I practically had no one else.”

Stiles knew how pathetic that sounded, but it was the truth and both he and Scott knew it.

Although, judging by the horrified look full of guilt on Scott’s face, it seemed that Scott had forgotten that minor detail.

Stiles didn’t know if he should be relieved by that, or even more offended.

 If that’s the werewolf way, then werewolves aren’t as amazing as I originally had thought. In fact, they are kind of douchebags,” Stiles finished, not regretting his words, despite Scott’s devastated expression.

Stiles had been more than crushed this past week with his best friend completely ignoring him and making him feel like shit that he felt as if this was a small price for Scott to pay for making him feel like that.

After a few seconds, Scott spoke in a hushed voice, “Dude, I am so sorry. I had no idea you felt like that. Shit, I really fucked everything up, didn’t I?”

Stiles observed Scott for a few more moments, taking in his ‘kicked puppy’ look which he was still not immune to that he let out an annoyed sigh and said, “ Yes, you did. But, it’s not like it can’t be fixed.”

Scott actually perked up at that, his chocolate brown eyes glimmering with hope and Stiles wanted to curse him for being so adorable.

He could never stay mad at Scott for long anyways.

In the end, he added, “I may be persuaded to forgive you. But, it will take a huge amount of groveling and large portions of pizzas from my fav place every other day.”

Stiles was only half-joking, but when Scott made an immediate movement as if to kneel in front of him and beg for his forgiveness, Stiles jumped from his bed, grabbing his best friend’s shoulder and shrieking, “ Scotty, no! I was just kidding. Not about the pizza part, though.”

His best friend grinned at that, his eyes full of sincerity as he said, “I really am sorry. I swear, I won’t avoid you again.”

“You better,” Stiles threatened, adding, “ Or, I will personally go to that Camaro and drag you out of it to beat the shit out of you for being such a dick.”

Scott nodded seriously, before letting out a chuckle as he said, “You sure have an obsession with Derek’s car, don’t you?”

Stiles let out an indignant scoff as he said, “Please, as if I care about anything related to that asshole. It’s just that I can objectively admire his sweet ride, that’s all.”

Scott grinned at him wider until Stiles threw a pillow in his face, muttering, “Oh, shut up.”

Despite himself, he smiled when he heard Scott laughing earnestly.

A bit of that pain melted away at that, replaced by something warmer in his chest.

Things weren’t the same as before and they would never be, but this was progress.

His best friend still cared about him, Stiles thought and relaxed a bit at that.

Scott, of course, had to ruin it, by saying in a thoughtful voice, “You know, Derek isn’t so bad.”

Stiles let out a huff, before saying in a mocking voice, “Oh, I am sure that he is a real delight. What, does he make you all sit around the fire and have deep emotional talks with you while knitting sweaters?”

Stiles didn’t know where that part about sweaters came from, but once he had pictured Derek doing just that, he couldn’t help but almost burst out laughing at that.

God, Derek Hale, the mighty alpha, sitting in a rocking chair and knitting sweaters for his already furry bunch of teens was really a hilarious thing to even imagine.

His moment of glee was interrupted by Scott frowning at him as he said, “Well, no. But, like, even though he doesn’t talk that much, he kind of cares? In his own way, of course, but if it hadn’t been for him making me calm down that night then who knows what I would have done to you.”

Stiles hated the way Scott shuddered at that thought and he sure as hell didn’t want to remember that night, nor talk about Derek Hale’s so-called ‘good qualities and selfless intentions’ which Stiles was still not convinced of.

That was why he changed the subject, saying, “Anyways, I know why I look like hell, but why do you have dark circles reaching your cheeks?”

That seemed to have been a distraction enough from the topic of ‘ Derek Hale actually not being a major dickhead’ which caused Scott to let out a defeated sigh as he threw himself on Stiles’s bed and said, “ Oh, man.  That’s because Derek has us chasing some lion creature which keeps lurking in Beacon Hills, breathing-fire and whatnot.”

Lion creature breathing fire?

Stiles scrunched his eyebrows together, wondering why that sounded familiar.

Finally, he asked, “Does it have a tale of a snake?”

Scott immediately straightened up in Stiles’s bed, throwing him a skeptical look as he asked, “Yeah. How did you know?”

Stiles shrugged his shoulders, knowing that if he lied, his friend might pick up on it, so he casually said, “ I may have read about similar creatures in one of the books on Greek mythology.”

That technically wasn’t a lie, since the book Deaton gave him did have a lot of info about creatures from Greek mythology which was where he read about this type of creature.

Chimera.

It was said to be a fire-breathing female monster with a lion's head, a goat's body, and a serpent's tail, if Stiles remembered correctly.

He couldn’t quite check that now with Scott being there, but he did tell Scott that he would research it and let him know what he found out.

His best friend offered him a grateful smile and after hesitating for a few seconds on his doorway, he pulled Stiles in a tight, bro-hug, saying once again how sorry he was for everything.

Stiles waved him off and told him to stop being so lame.

He couldn’t disguise the clear relief and affection in his chest and he knew Scott could sense it too as he smiled knowingly at him, before leaving his bedroom.

Stiles wasted no time in grabbing the book from under the bed and looking for a chapter on chimeras.

✢

“Hey, Stiles!”

Stiles heard his father’s voice, as well as his footsteps while climbing up the stairs and he looked away from his laptop, swiveling in his chair as he let out a, “Yo da—Derek?!”

His voice got higher as his eyes landed on the figure standing in the corner of his room, right next to his door, clad in a leather jacket, tight black T-Shirt and dark blue jeans with a warning glint in his light green eyes.

Before Stiles could remember how to breathe properly, Derek was already motioning for him to shut the fuck up, or else he would get his throat ripped out.

Typical, Stiles thought, before hurriedly jumping out of his chair and practically dashing out of the door.               

He got out of the door just in time, practically stumbling into his dad in the hallway in front of his bedroom.

“ Everything okay, son?” his dad asked with his eyebrows furrowed while Stiles tried to go for a casual look as he leaned his arm on his door.

“Yeah, everything is cool. Couldn’t be better. Yup. Just peachy,” Stiles blabbered and stopped only when he saw the wary look his father was giving him.

“ Right,” his dad drawled with a concerned expression, before continuing, “ Anyways, just wanted to tell you I have this big case I am working on, so I won’t be here for a couple of days. Think you can handle being alone for that long, or should I ask Melissa to take you in while I am away?”

Stiles immediately flailed, saying, “No, come on dad, I am a big guy. I can take care of myself.”

His dad didn’t seem convinced which was just rude, but then again it wasn’t like Stiles couldn’t understand the poor man, since he did have a slight tendency of kind of getting into trouble.

Totally not his fault.

He was just cursed with bad luck, that was all.

“Sure,” his dad said, still unconvinced, but he seemed to let it slide as he let out a defeated sigh, before saying, “ You know I love you, son?”

Stiles was a bit taken aback by that, since he and his father weren’t too keen on expressing such feelings, at least not verbally, especially not after his mother’s death.

However, it did make his chest fill with warmth as he replied without hesitation,” Yeah. Me too, dad,” immediately meeting his dad half way in a tight hug.

When his dad left with an awkward smile, Stiles stood there for a few more moments, before a slight noise in his room reminded him of the unexpected guest he had there.

When he closed the door behind him, locking them just in case, he found Derek nonchalantly looking at his bookshelf as if it was the most common thing to do.

“Just what the hell are you doing here?!” Stiles hissed in a whisper, since his dad was still in the house.

Derek didn’t seem even the slightest bit bothered by his tone of voice as he casually turned around and said in a flat voice, “ Scott is somewhere with Isaac and I need to know where the chimeras usually live.”

Stiles stared at Derek with a dumbfounded look, before asking in a mocking voice, “And how the hell am I supposed to know that?”

“Well, since you did tell Scott about what they were and what they are capable of a couple of days ago, I figured this would be an easy task,” Derek replied while shrugging his shoulders in an unconcerned manner.

Stiles, on the other hand, was flabbergasted by the fact that not only did Derek Hale barge into his room, but he was also asking for Stiles’s help?!

Well, more like expecting it, but still!

Also, Stiles couldn’t believe that Scott betrayed him like that and told Derek that it was him who did the research on chimeras and gave Scott the answers.

His frown must have been obvious, because in the next moment Derek, as if reading his mind—and holy shit, what if he could—Stiles wondered in horror, just said in a disgruntled voice,  Look, it doesn’t take a genius to realize that it wasn’t Scott who did the research since he couldn’t even pronounce the name properly, calling it a chamera instead of chimera.”

Stiles winced at that, wanting to smack Scott for being such a dumb guy sometimes—most of the times.

“Also, it’s not like anyone else knows about Scott being a werewolf and it’s obvious who is the one sticking his nose into everything, so it was pretty clear who the meddler was. Once again.”

Stiles didn’t appreciate Derek’s accusatory tone of voice and insults, especially since _he_ was the one who came here asking Stiles for information.

For that reason, his response to the uncultured alpha was, “Well, this _meddler_ has no intention of telling you shit, so you better get your furry ass out of here, before I make my dad lock you up for trespassing. Into a teenager’s room no less. You really are a creeper, huh?”

As expected, Derek’s response was a flash of bloody red in his gaze and an angry growl.

Stiles wasn’t bothered by it.

After all, he had the upper hand here with the information he had on the chimera and also with his dad being downstairs, so Derek could suck it.

Which was exactly what Stiles told him, causing Derek to hiss at him in apparent fury, “Stop acting like a smartass, and tell me what you know!”

Oh how Stiles enjoyed the look on Derek’s face, before saying, “I am not ACTING like one. I am. And nope, I ain’t gonna tell you. Unless, you ask me nicely.”

That seemed to have been the last straw as Derek seemed ready to pounce on him and end his life, but Stiles was faster this time, opening his bedroom door and yelling, “ Hey, dad?!”

That was enough to make Derek flinch and let out a string of curses as he closed his eyes, before clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth.

 “Fine,” the alpha practically spat out, causing Stiles to grin mischievously.

“Fine, what?” Stiles taunted, obviously having no regards for his life when Derek bore holes in his face with his eyes.

“ Stiles,” Derek growled his name in a warning tone, but then the Sheriff yelled from downstairs, “ Yes, kiddo?!”

That made Derek effectively shut his mouth, pressing his lips in a tight line, causing Stiles to look at him with undisguised glee.

The werewolf finally relented, hissing, “Can you be so kind as to share the information you have on chimeras?”

Every word seemed like it was taken out of Derek’s mouth with pincers and while Stiles wanted to make him suffer more, he knew that he had already crossed the line and that the alpha’s patience with him at that moment was practically non-existent.

So he decided not to test his luck anymore as he yelled back, “Nothing, sorry!” before closing the door and turning to Derek with wide grin.

Derek had this expression between constipation and a look of a serial killer and it made Stiles clasp his hands in excitement as he passed next to him, saying, “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

He didn’t even pay attention to the warning snarl that left Derek’s lips when Stiles sat at his laptop and started looking for the information that Derek needed.

After an extensive research that took about half an hour with Derek practically breathing down his neck and letting out annoying huffs behind him which were totally distracting and irked Stiles to no extent, he finally obtained the information that Derek needed.

“Okay, so, chimeras usually hide in caves, or if there aren’t any, then they make holes in large trees and settle there. Well, I am sure that there are some trees in those woods of yours that are pretty big enough for them to get all cozy and what not, but considering that they probably know you and your pack are close by, I doubt that they would risk it. So, my guess is the caves that are the farthest from the woods,” Stiles concluded with a thoughtful nod while Derek just stared at him with a scowl on his face.

Just like that he turned around, ready to jump out of Stiles’s window without a word, much like how he got in his room in the first place and really—what did Stiles expect from that stubborn prick?

That was why what he did next could be considered utterly idiotic, but his anger won over his self-preservation instincts in that moment.

“Ungrateful bastard,” Stiles muttered under his breath, forgetting about werewolf super-hearing and all that jazz.

Well, he was painfully reminded of it when a few seconds after that statement left his lips, his back was pressed against the wall of his bedroom, the impact causing his vision to blur for a moment.

“Ugh…,” he groaned as he blinked a few times to focus his vision, only to be met with a pair of pissed of red eyes glaring at him.

Shit.

His heart started beating like a rabbit’s as he widened his eyes in shock at Derek’s sudden proximity, his strong arm pressed against Stiles’s chest, disabling him from moving.

“M-my dad’s downstairs and even though you think you are some invincible werewolf, he is the Sheriff and I am sure that you wouldn’t want poli—ah!”

His desperate rant was interrupted with Derek moving the hand that was on his chest and raising it, causing Stiles to let out that embarrassing squeak as he squeezed his eyes shut, preparing himself to get his facial structure rearranged by one very furious werewolf.

Instead of the pain he was expecting, he felt something firm on his sternum.

His eyes flew open in shock as he looked down and noticed a large hand splayed over his breastbone.

When he looked up his heart almost stopped in his chest at the way Derek was looking at him.

His expression was unreadable, but it wasn’t murderous anymore.

Instead it seemed as if Derek was trying hard to figure something out, to figure him out and Stiles felt uncomfortable at that.

Derek’s eyes flew over his face, as if searching for something and when they landed on his lips for a brief moment, Stiles unconsciously licked his lower lip which seemed to go dry in that moment.

That actually seemed to make Derek let out something resembling an amused snort, although Stiles couldn’t be sure if that was actually what happened, since he was pretty sure that there was no oxygen in his brain at that moment.

However, what he did not imagine was the way Derek’s voice went all husky when the alpha locked his gaze with Stiles’s, saying that one word which took Stiles’s breath away.

“Thanks.”

Stiles widened his eyes at that and before he could confirm if that was a smug expression Derek had at his reaction, the alpha was already gone from his room, causing Stiles to slump to the floor in an instant.

He placed a hand on the same spot  on his chest where Derek’s large, warm palm had been resting just a few seconds ago and he whispered to himself, “ What the hell was that?!’

His brain worked like crazy, the thoughts and questions flooding his troubled mind, but the one thing that haunted him the most was what he felt the moment Derek’s gaze landed on his lips.

Other than the usual fear and feeling of irritation when dealing with the obnoxious alpha, what he also felt was something else…

Something at the way the atmosphere between them shifted in an instant, from tense to filled with another kind of tension which caused Stiles to feel short of breath just remembering Derek’s husky voice and self-satisfied expression at Stiles’s reaction.

 “Fuck my life, “ Stiles sighed as he buried his face in his hands.


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow updates. I wish I had more time to write...>.<

Stiles couldn’t take it anymore.

His brain was literally fried at this point.

Sure, he did get psyched at some point about all the valuable insights on werewolves and other supernatural creatures he had gained while reading that huge-ass book that Deaton had lent him, but he was sure that he would get some kind of stroke in his brain caused by the sudden overload in information.

After all, he could never focus only on one thing, even when Adderall kicked in, maintaining his ADHD at a level which allowed him to normally function, or well—as ‘normal’ as Stiles could be, during classes.

So, it was already an immense feat that he actually managed to finish the whole book which had exactly 1567 pages, in just a week.

Of course, he was going to have to restock the medicine cabinet in bathroom with a new bottle of Adderall, since he had been practically taking two pills a day while trying to go over the book without any distractions.

Well, there were still disruptions during his ‘learning time’ caused by Scott, and even more surprisingly—Derek, needing his help with the chimeras.

Of course, it was only Scott, who referred it as help and thanked him like a polite human being, well no—werewolf actually, should, after Stiles so kindly offered his extensive knowledge on chimeras, while Derek, being the ungrateful jerk that he was did none of those things.

In fact, he even acted as if it was expected of Stiles to just tell him everything he knew, despite their quarrels in the past, not to mention the threats and the ‘slamming into solid surfaces’ technique that the constantly sour-looking alpha just loved using on him any chance he got.

He wasn’t even going to delve into the issue of Derek trespassing into his property and materializing in his bedroom out of nowhere 2 days ago like the obviously giant creeper that he is.

Also, another thought that preoccupied his mind ever since that ‘event’ was the weird feeling stirring in the depths of his stomach when Derek did not glare at him like he usually did, but in fact watched him with some sort of a look Stiles couldn’t quite pinpoint the meaning behind it.

He was still sure that he dreamed of that interaction between them, because Derek did actually thank him for sharing what he knew of the chimeras with him, although Stiles was sure that the haughty werewolf did it just to shock him.

Unfortunately, it worked perfectly, since it had Stiles thinking of that moment and the strange sensations in his body at that time, more than he should have.

The only solution which would help clear his troubled mind, so that he could continue going over the second book that Scott’s boss gave him, was for him to get out of the house and inhale some fresh air.

His feet naturally took him to Scott’s house, because the last thing that he wanted to be left with were his own thoughts.

He needed the company of his best friend to help take his mind off all things related to magic and one particularly surly werewolf.

Ironically, it was exactly his best friend, who was now tied to that werewolf, but Scott knew better than to talk much about the pack and Derek in Stiles’ presence.

It was not like Stiles forbade him to do so, but he was sure that his constantly disgruntled expression which he wore every time Scott excitedly tried to tell him something about his awesome times with the other furballs , told Scott everything he needed to know, causing his best friend to avoid such subjects when he was around Stiles.

Stiles knew that he was being unfair and a shitty friend by not wanting to let Scott include him into that sphere of his life, but honestly, he wasn’t really a part of it.

After all, even Scott had said it once how Isaac and him bonded over their similar fates while Stiles would not be able to understand that since he was not a werewolf.

Even though he knew that Scott meant nothing by it, the remark still hurt.

It caused a hollow like feeling in Stiles’ chest even then and by now it had actually widened.

So, no.

Stiles didn’t want for Scott to rub it in how he had new friends, a second family more like it, which Stiles was not a part of and never will be.

It was maybe even worse that Scott did that on an unconscious level, because that just meant that he hadn’t really taken Stiles’s feelings about all of that in consideration, or even put himself in his shoes.

So, for the sake of their friendship, they had somehow reached an unspoken agreement that they would discuss such things only under emergency circumstances—like the one with the chimera.

Despite the loneliness he felt creeping up on him ever since Scott joined Derek’s pack, Stiles wasn’t going to let a more than a decade long friendship go to shit, just because he was not equipped with super wolfy powers.

He ignored his feelings of self-deprecation and took confident steps to Scott’s house.

Before, when Scott was just a puny human like him, most of the times they would come to each other’s houses unannounced and hang out for hours.

But then again, that was before Scott snagged himself an annoyingly hot werewolf boyfriend and a bunch of supermodel-like looking werewolves that came as an addition to his set of new skills and abilities.

That was probably why Stiles was not surprised when he rang Scott’s doorbell a few times and nobody answered.

The only sound other than the chiming of the doorbell in the otherwise empty street was the wind gradually building up, carrying the fallen leaves and scattering them across the pavement.

Stiles shivered from the sudden chilliness, lamenting the fact that he got out of the house only in his favourite red hoodie.

He really should wash it, he thought then, realizing that he had been wearing it almost every day this week.

It wasn’t like he didn’t own any other clothes, but lately he was so focused on absorbing the new information from that book that he barely had time to shower, or change clothes.

Now that he thought about it, it was kind of sad that at the ripe age of almost 18, all he did was live like some sort of a hermit, instead of going to parties and doing reckless, stupid things like most teenagers.

Then again, the last time he did something rash, like going to the forest to find a dead person’s body, Scott got bitten and turned into a werewolf which was why Stiles was now condemned to this life of solitude.

Also, being the Sheriff’s kid and seeing all sorts of things in his dad’s police files that could happen to young people when they were careless in doing wild stuff and wanting to ‘experiment’, Stiles was not in a hurry to do any of that.

All he wanted right now was for him and his best friend to go to his house and play some video games.

Was that really too much to ask, he wondered while resenting the fact that he never made any great effort in his past of socializing with other people than Scott.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but it was more like he and Scott were invisible in school and many, like Jackson and other meatheaded jocks, deemed them as nerds and didn’t give them any time of day.

Sure, he had Lydia as a close friend, but she was more of a ‘love&style&fashion’ advisor to him than someone whom he could play video games with, or talk to about Star Wars and other ‘geeky’ stuff like he did with Scott.

He sighed tiredly, looking up from where he was kicking pebbles on the road and realizing that he actually got to ‘Beans’ all the way from Scott’s house.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize that he had been walking for 20 minutes until he got to his and Scott’s favourite hang-out place in Beacon Hills.

He stood in front of the glass window of the café, peering through it and taking in the faces in there.

After a few minutes, he looked away and resumed walking down the streets with his shoulders hunched.

So, Scott was not there either.

Stiles figured that if he wasn’t at home, or at ‘Beans’, then he was probably with _them._

He scrunched his eyebrows together, feeling a stab of jealousy, causing him to whip out his phone and send Scott a message, before he could change his mind.

 

_14:50_

_My dad’s out of town for a few days which means you are invited to la casa Stilinski for some wicked tortilla chips and an ass-kicking in Mario Cart._

Stiles smiled to himself when he sent that message, because if there was something Scott couldn’t resist then those were definitely Stiles’s mouth-watering tortilla chips which he learned how to make when he was 13 years old and had perfected the dip through the years that even Melissa had asked for his recipe.

He was positive that his delicious tortilla chips were a sure winner when faced against a hairy werewolf lot.

✢

He couldn’t believe it.

Scott had actually betrayed the sacred tortilla chips and the game of Mario Cart in favour of Derek and his hairballs.

It had been 3 hours since Stiles had sent that message and there was still no response from Scott.

Stiles tried to busy himself by doing various things in the meantime like preparing the chips which were now cold and totally inedible.

He finally peeled himself off the couch in the living room where he had been lazying around, waiting for Scott to come, or at least answer to his text.

His back ached from lying in the same position for so long as he strutted to the kitchen and threw the huge plastic bowl filled with Scott’s favourite junk food in the sink.

He let out an annoyed huff, before grabbing his phone and dialing Scott’s number to give him a piece of his mind.

He frowned when his call got disconnected with the robotic voice telling him that Scott was unavailable at the moment.

Stiles stared at his cell phone for a moment, thinking how Scott never turned off his phone.

Sure, his battery may have died on him, but Stiles knew it for a fact that Scott always carried a portable charger, since he liked to check up on his mom frequently, who, much like Stiles’s dad, usually had the late shift at the hospital she was working at.

The previous feeling of irritation was suddenly replaced by concern for his best friend, considering that that chimera was still roaming Beacon Hills.

Stiles thought about what he should do next and there was only one way to check if Scott was okay.

Even though he would be rather going anywhere but there, Stiles knew that he had no choice as he grabbed the keys to his jeep along with his jacket, before rushing out of the house.

✢

Stiles parked his jeep in front of the looming building made mostly of bricks and steel and looked out of the window.

He had been there only once before, during the phase when Scott was still sane enough to listen to him and not to even consider joining Derek’s pack.

Stiles was actually the one to suggest they pass next to that place once, in order for him to convince Scott how no rational person with good-intentions would choose to live in such a cold-looking place and he had asked Scott then if he could imagine spending most of his days there.

At the time, Scott, bless his little soul, made a disgusted expression and answered how he could definitely not imagine that, before they drove off without looking back with Stiles being all smug about managing to further convince Scott that Derek was not to be trusted.

Who knew that not only would he be back at this chills-inducing building, but that he would also be making conscious steps towards Derek Hale’s apartment, where, judging by Scott’s words he and most of the pack frequently spent their time there.

Despite the shabby looking exterior, Stiles knew that Derek’s loft was actually situated in one of the most expensive industrial apartment complexes in Beacon Hills, so he was sure that the interior of his apartment was spacious enough to host a hoard of werewolves.

He figured that Derek was rich, since everyone knew that the Hale family had been well-off and he was certain that Derek and his sisters inherited it all after the unfortunate deaths of their parents and cousins.

That probably provided him with enough money to feed the pack and thus lure them further to his side, because Stiles was sure that none of them were with him for his ‘likeable’ personality.

As he stood in front of the door of the only apartment at the last floor of the building, he actually hesitated in knocking.

What was he even going to say?

“Hello, I know you hate me the feebly, far-too-inquisitive-for-his-own-good human and the feeling is mutual, but why the hell is my best friend not answering my texts?”

He scoffed, thinking how yeah, that was a brilliant plan.

But then again, he had no idea how else to get to Scott and the sense of unease was increasing with each passing second with Scott still not answering to his texts, or calling him back, that he finally swallowed down his nervousness and raised his hand to the door.

He had only managed to lightly brush his knuckles against the metal doors, before they were immediately being pulled open with one very familiar curly-haired werewolf showing up in front of him.

Stiles’s eyes widened in surprise, before he narrowed them at the guy in front of him as he said in an accusatory voice, “ Have you been there the whole time?”

The guy at least had the decency to seem a bit sheepish at that as he pushed one of his silky locks away from his eyes, saying, “Yeah, I kind of heard your heartbeat as you were climbing the stairs. But, uhm, you seemed reluctant to knock, so I thought it would be best to give you a chance to bail, if you decided to do so. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Stiles blinked at the werewolf, who seemed honest, and _huh._

He certainly didn’t expect that, nor did he expect for Isaac to actually take his feelings into consideration and give him a way out, knowing that he was probably uncomfortable about coming here to the Beacon Hills werewolf headquarters.

He tried to push down the warm feeling building up in his chest at that sign of sympathy from the young werewolf and instead cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, no big deal. I, uh appreciate it.”

Surprisingly, the curly-haired werewolf seemed to perk up at that and okay, yeah, Stiles could totally see why Scott was into this guy.

Not only was he extremely good looking, but he also had a very beautiful smile.

Cursed be werewolves and their unfair good looks.

He looked away and straightened up as he said, “Anyways, the reason why I am here is because I can’t seem to track down Scott and I need to talk to him about something important? So, is he here?”

Okay, there was nothing really of crucial significance that he had to talk to his best friend, but despite Isaac’s unexpected sympathy, he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him how he needed Scott to chill with him, since he was friendless and pathetic like that.

He still had that much dignity, thank you very much.

Isaac seemed to have believed him, as he said, “Oh, yeah, he is not here. He went with Derek and the others to try and hunt down the chimera, who fled two towns away the previous afternoon. But, I can tell him you dropped by as soon as he comes back?”

Stiles stared at the werewolf, who seemed a bit tentative, as if Stiles was some easily-scared little animal, and he just nodded and said, “Uh, yeah. That would be great. Thanks.”

He wanted to cringe at himself for sounding so stiff, but he really had no idea how to be relaxed around someone his best friend was regularly making out with and who Stiles was supposed to dislike since he belonged to Derek’s group of supermodel-like lycanthropes.

Damn it.

He even ran out of insulting nicknames for Derek’s bunch.

“No problem, Stiles.”

Isaac’s quiet voice had him blinking at the werewolf, who was leaning on the door frame with a soft smile and his incredibly attractive clear blue eyes staring at him with a glint of something which Stiles had no way of deciphering.

All he knew was that his heartbeat picked up and he was sure that he was even slightly blushing, so he ducked his head out of embarrassment in some sort of a sign of goodbye as he practically ran down the stairs, even slipping once and cursing under his breath.

He was pretty sure he heard a melodic laughter ringing through the building when he cursed, but he paid no attention to that as his primary goal was to get out of there as fast as possible.

The moment Stiles was out of that building, he felt as if he could breathe normally again.

He closed his eyes and placed a hand on his chest, feeling how hard his heart was beating in his chest.

He exhaled and inhaled a few times to compose himself.

When he finally did, he walked to his jeep and as soon as he got in and closed the door, he locked them.

He had no idea why he had such a strong reaction to Isaac, but there was just something in the way the curly-haired werewolf spoke to him and the way he framed his words alongside that look at the end which seemed so…Intimate, somehow.

Not in a romantic way, of course, but it was almost as if…As if Isaac actually knew the true reason why Stiles was there, looking for Scott.

It was like he read his mind and even though he probably figured out that other than going there to look for Scott, Stiles also had an innate curiosity which propelled him to want to see the loft and what was so special about it and even to face the pack, Isaac smoothly let it slide.

And that was scary.

It frightened Stiles how nice Isaac was to him and he knew that it was because of Scott, but that was just the thing.

If Isaac was ready to treat Stiles in such a way and to try and get on his good side since he was Scott’s best friend that could only mean two things.

First, it meant that despite already having Scott in the same pack as him and that despite the fact that they had already hooked up, Isaac cared about his best friend so much and was clearly into him, if he still wanted to get in Stiles’s good books, even though he had already won over Scott and even spent more time with him than Stiles did.

Secondly, it meant that Isaac was aware of how important Stiles was to Scott and clearly Scott showed it openly and that kind of made Stiles’s heart burst from happiness. He still mattered to Scott and wasn’t replaced by someone else in the pack as Scott’s best friend. He grinned to himself, feeling much lighter all of a sudden.

Also, the thing that bothered him was that Scott didn’t tell him about going to chase after the chimera outside Beacon Hills, although that was very dangerous and Scott knew that Stiles wanted to know whenever Scott was in a serious situation like that.

That only meant that it was Stiles’s fault that Scott kept this from him, probably thinking how Stiles would be displeased to hear that Derek and the rest were also going with him.

Shit, he really was a lousy best friend to Scott.

The sudden guilt flowing through his body made him realize that he needed to stop acting like such a brat and swallow his discontent with Scott’s choice of pack, in order to be the best friend that Scott deserved.

If he wanted to do that, he also needed to get stronger.

With that thought came a sudden realization.

Derek and most of his pack were out of Beacon Hills.

His dad was also not in Beacon Hills.

And Stiles still felt that itch under his skin ever since he first entered the forest after reading about the sources of magical power in that book.

However, now there was no Derek standing in his way and forbidding him from walking around the forest which meant Stiles had the complete freedom of exploring the forest and finding the Nemeton.

Hell yeah!

He didn’t waste a second in turning on the engine and driving to the edge of the forest.

✢

It was already dark when Stiles entered the forest and this time he had no flashlight with him.

Nevertheless, he turned the flash on his cell phone and started wandering through the ominous looking trees, the soft mud sinking underneath his feet with each step he took.

He had no idea where he was going and his mind was buzzing with all sorts of thoughts.

Then he remembered the paragraph from the book, saying how in order to find the source of magical power, he had to focus and clear his mind.

Easier said than done when you had an ADHD and forgot to take your Adderall this morning, but Stiles knew that this was probably the only chance that he was going to get to find the Nemeton without one intimidating werewolf threatening to end his life, if he ever stepped foot on his private property.

He closed his eyes, inhaling through his nose the smell of soil mixed with the light rain falling since about a couple of minutes ago.

The gentle breeze ruffled his hair as he felt his mind being lulled by the gentle melody it produced.

Now, with his mind much more at ease, he could almost hear it.

It was as if there was a voice in the distance, calling to him, drawing him in closer.

He didn’t even realize that he started moving as he had his eyes closed until he heard the noise of the twigs crunching under his sneakers.

No matter how much he wanted to open his eyes, he didn’t dear for fear of that voice disappearing.

The closer he got to it, the more he felt as if his body was electrified, with little shocks jolting him from time to time.

It actually felt pleasant as if he was gaining more energy out of nowhere.

No, actually, it wasn’t out of nowhere.

He was fairly certain that it was from that voice which seemed pretty close right now.

As the voice got louder, saying something in a language Stiles didn’t understand, he could practically feel the magic, lingering in the air, almost palpable underneath his fingers as he reached for something invisible to him.

Finally, he stopped when he realized that there was not only one voice in his head, but more, murmuring between them about something Stiles had no way of translating into the language he spoke.

When he opened his eyes, he realized that he was in the part of the forest he had never been before.

Actually, he wasn’t even sure if this was still part of Derek’s property, because it looked so much different than the Beacon Hills forest.

The tree trunks here where much thicker than the lean trunks he knew and recognized in the parts of the forest he had been.

Also, he had never seen the large tree stump which was just a few feet out of his reach.

He was sure that he would have noticed it before if he had come across it, because there was no mistaking that the voices which he could still hear were actually coming from that tree.

But, Stiles couldn’t see anyone around, so he was pretty sure that the stump was in fact magical and that he had found the Nemeton.

He was both excited and petrified, because holy shit, what now?

He never stopped to wonder what exactly he was supposed to do next, since he never truly believed that he would manage to find the source of magical power in Beacon Hills.

Well, the only logical explanation for him was to touch it.

After all, maybe by doing that he would get some answers.

He made a few steps forward, crouching down and tentatively extending his hands towards the stump.

Before he had time to register the change in the tone of the voices coming from the tree, turning from hushed to practically screaming something at him which he still did not understand, but what he did gather from it was the urgency in them and the _danger,_ the blue spark of light the stump had emitted had already connected with his hand.

He barely had a second to process the burning sensation in his hand, spreading through his whole body, scalding him, before he was flying through the air and landing hard on the ground with the darkness enveloping him.

✢

Stiles winced as he carefully applied the self-made ointment to his palms, staring with disgust at what the skin on his palms looked like now.

It was still glaringly dark brown and gross with some white liquid getting stuck to his upper crease, but it seemed a tad better after Stiles’s appliance of his own remedy every half an hour.

He sure was glad that the Internet existed as well as the information about all the herbs which could efficiently help in easing the pain caused by any kind of burn.

A whole day had passed since Stiles’s venture into the forest in which he was apparently overpowered by a tree stump which caused him to fly a few feet in the air until his head collided with the cold, hard ground, making him lose consciousness.

When he woke up, the sun was already marking a new day by casting rose gold rays in the horizon.

He woke up with a nasty headache and even nastier looking burns on both of his palms which hurt like a bitch.

Despite the frantic slamming of his heart against his ribcage, he calmly found the way to his jeep after about half an hour of wondering through the forest and maybe trembling.

A bit.

Just a bit.

Okay, maybe his whole body was shaking and he felt like screaming from how much the pain was blinding him as he felt as if someone was branding the skin on his palms with the hot iron, but he still managed to drive to his house, although he had no idea how he did that, since his whole body protested when his hands touched the steering wheel.

The surge of pain in that moment was so intense that he immediately flinched back, his breath coming out slow and ragged.

In the end he drove with his knees around the steering wheel while constantly looking back in his rearview mirror to see if there was a police car nearby.

He really didn’t need getting pulled over and explaining what he was doing in the woods at the asscrack of dawn, let alone getting out with his charred palms, making him look like a third-degree burn victim.

He was sure that his father would not appreciate such a call from his colleagues about his son looking like that and being all suspicious about what he had been doing in the forest at such an early hour.

Besides, he really wanted to spare his dad of having a heart attack at the age of forty.

As soon as he got home, he placed his palms under the tap in the kitchen, the freezing water providing some relief and causing him to stay like that for hours until his legs went numb.

He wasted no time in searching information on the net for the cure to his problem which was a bit harder since he had to use his toes to type, with his hands being useless at that moment.

To add to his already great misery, Scott had called him a few hours after that, apologizing for not telling him where he was and saying how he was back and that he was going to drop by his place as soon as possible to talk about that ‘important thing’ Stiles wanted to discuss.

It had already been difficult enough answering Scott’s call by using his nose and tongue to swipe at the screen and he really had no idea how to hide this from Scott without telling him the truth, so he did something he got better at lately.

He lied.

He had explained to Scott how the ‘important matter’ was that his laptop had died on him all of a sudden and he couldn’t download the new Star Wars game that came out and he wanted to borrow Scott’s laptop.

However, his laptop miraculously came back to life, he faked cheerfulness over the phone and he told Scott how it’d be best if they saw each other at school on Monday, since he was practically obsessed with the game.

Luckily, Scott believed him, knowing how fast Stiles got addicted to video games and confirmed how they would see each other in school.

That gave Stiles some time to try and deal with the problem of his dysfunctional palms.

As he lied in his bed, he couldn’t help but be slightly hurt that Scott agreed to seeing him in two whole days so easily and without any protest.

Usually, before the whole ‘turning into a werewolf’ incident, Scott would whine at him if Stiles ever thought of ditching him, saying how he needed to sleep after staying up late playing some new video game he purchased online.

The Scott from before would have not rested until he got Stiles out of bed and getting him to spend time with him.

Lately, Stiles kind of felt as if he was on the short side of this best friends deal he had going on with Scott, since they were practically in diapers.

Okay, maybe not that long, but it was as if they were Siamese twins and even Jackson had called them "Tweedledumb" and "Tweedledumber" one time, causing Stiles to feel sorry for Scott for being named as the dumber one of the two, although when he told that to Scott, his best friend fervently denied the harsh reality.

Stiles gave in quickly, nodding and humoring him into thinking that Jackson was actually referring to Stiles when he said “Tweedledumber”, because that was what best friends did for each other.

They told white lies as to not hurt their friend’s feelings.  

It was obvious that he was always the ‘brains and the looks’ in their friendship while Scott was…

He was…

Well, he was always a puppy-like human you could never possibly get tired of having trailing after you in every one of your ridiculous endeavours.

Surprisingly, it was Scott who got the guy first which was kind of totally unfair, since Scott wasn’t even into dudes a few weeks ago and now not only was he a werewolf, but he also had a werewolf boyfriend.

And what did Stiles have?

Still his left hand as his sole companion in those ahem— _lonely nights_ , yeah he was totally calling it like that, since he was totally refined and all that shit.

Currently, though, with his hands being practically a burden, he didn’t even have that.

Not that he was jealous of Scott, or anything, he thought.

It was just that Stiles had always thought that when he and Scott get girlfriends/boyfriends, things would kind of still stay pretty much the same between them?

No, actually they would get even better, because a) they would be getting laid on a regular basis and b) they would be getting FREAKING LAID on a DAILY BASIS, and oh wait—he said that already, didn’t he??

Stiles shrugged his shoulders, because hey—it was a pretty important factor that had to be mentioned, not once, but TWICE.

Anyways, he knew that they wouldn’t have so much time to hang out when they got into relationships, but it had never occurred to him that being with someone would cause them to drift apart.

Okay, so yes, Scott did try to convince him once, or twice to go out with him and Isaac, but Stiles must have had a pretty judgmental, or disgusted expression both times, because Scott immediately frowned in response and dropped the subject.

For good.

First of all, Stiles would rather be slammed into a wall by one very furious Derek Hale a thousand times than be a third wheel to two hormonal werewolves with one of them being his closest friend.

Secondly, he really disliked Isaac.

Okay, he knew deep down, like deep deep deep down, that he was being kind of unfair towards the curly-haired dude, especially after the way Isaac actually treated him when Stiles came to the loft looking for Scott.

Still, that did not change the fact that Isaac was part of Derek’s gang and if he was in Derek’s pack then that was more than enough for Stiles to write him off as a troublemaker.

But then again, now Scott was in that same pack and yet Scott was nothing but an innocent puppy-like existence, ready to help anyone.

Okay, maybe he was now much hairier than before and stronger and had a toned body and sometimes ate small animals ( even though he claimed he didn’t, but Stiles definitely did not miss the way Scott was eyeing that squirrel one afternoon during lunch time), but he was still the kind person that he was before the bite.

Except that now he had a handsome boyfriend, new friends who looked like they all walked out of some fashion magazine with Derek being their leader, all hot and bothered in that black leather jacket with his murderous expression and what not, while Stiles…

Well, he still had nothing and now even much less, since Scott barely had time to squeeze him in his busy schedule that consisted of hunting down supernatural beings, bonding with the pack and getting all nasty with his boyfriend.

Yuck.

Stiles’s scowl deepened as he thought about all of that and he really wanted to learn magic fast and at least  cast a spell on some inanimate object, bringing it to life and using it as a substitute for Scott.

Hmm, what kind of physical entity would be badass enough to hang out with him, the Great Mage of Wizardry ( yes, that is totally a legit word—mind you, he looked it up in the dictionary), he wondered.

Maybe his dad’s shovel from the garage?

It was almost the same height as Stiles and despite being wooden, it had a killer cutting edge.

Later on, when he gets famous for his sorcery and someone writes a book about him and his achievements, it could be titled ** _“The Adventures of Stiles—the Great Mage and his Killer Shovel”_**

Yeah, that was so much better than **_“ The Adventures of Stiles-the Great Mage and Scott the Werewolf Boy”._**

He pumped his fist in the air and yelled, “ For the KILLER SHOVEL!”

He was so excited by that, that he totally forgot about the condition of his hands, causing him to let out a painful groan as he bit his lower lip from the sharp pain numbing him.

After a few minutes of nothing but his quick inhales and exhales filling his bedroom as he tried to restore his fast heartbeat to a steady drum, he turned around to lie down on his stomach as buried his face in the pillow and sighed.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

When one of them got a boyfriend, or girlfriend, their circle of friends was supposed to expand and the scenario of Stiles getting kicked out of that combo was definitely not cool.

He had never imagined that one of them would select a partner, whom the other wouldn’t approve of.

Why couldn’t it have been Allison?

Stiles actually liked Allison.

She was pretty, smart and funny.

Too bad Kira thought that as well and Allison seemed to be playing for the girl’s team, although Stiles couldn’t blame her, because come on—Kira with her shiny hair and smooth skin was definitely a better option than Scott with his fur issues and claws and fangs which could draw blood any moment Scott got excited during ‘love sessions’.

Stiles wondered if Scott and Isaac were into blood kink, because it must get pretty messy when they are in the heat of the moment and one of them—oh shit, ew, what the hell—his brain was sick, Stiles concluded, trying to get those hideous mental images out of his head.

Why would he even go there, like—UGH.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts, hitting his face on the pillow repeatedly that he did not even hear the creak his window made as it was opened.

“If you want to suffocate yourself, the key is not to lift your head from the pillow”.

A disembodied, gruff, well-familiar voice coming from the window made him abruptly crane his neck, getting a crick in the process while shrieking as his eyes landed on the figure of Derek Hale casually leaning against the wall next to his window, in a tight black T-Shirt, causing him to fall out of bed with a loud thud.

“Ow,” he grunted as he felt his forehead throbbing from the impact of colliding with his rug, thanks to number 1 werewolf creeper of unsuspecting teenage boys.

He sat up quickly, glaring at Derek and spitting out, “What the hell, dude?! The first time I was forgiving, but this time I am seriously going to report your stalker furry ass for breaking and entering!”

Stiles got even more pissed off when Derek just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him and said, “ First of all, I didn’t break anything. Second of all, stalking would consist of me following you all the time out of interest which I most definitely do not harbor for you,” and wow, ouch, Stiles thought at that last remark Derek made.

“Finally, I need you to tell me how to kill a chimera, since we had no luck in doing so. Apparently clawing at its heart and ripping it out had no effect, so…”

Stiles observed Derek with a mixture of shock and slight awe at how nonchalantly Derek talked about ripping someone’s heart out, even though it was an evil supernatural-being attacking them, but still.

Stiles clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes as he said, “That’s because chimeras have two hearts. One in the chest like us and the other where their liver is supposed to be. So, I am guessing that to kill them you need to rip out both of their hearts. But, as I recall there is something else you need to do to effectively put it down once and for all.”

He ignored the way Derek was now looking at him, as if he was actually slightly impressed and he focused on getting up and being careful as to not use his hands to push himself off the floor.

Somehow he managed to do so and then he strutted to his table where his laptop was situated, all the while giving the deadliest glare he could muster to Derek,  as he passed next to the completely unbothered alpha, who was leaning against his window sill with arms crossed over his ridiculously broad chest.

He was so preoccupied with grumbling to himself about Derek’s absolute lack of shame at barging into his bedroom like it was nothing and asking of him to provide him with more information on the chimera, that he forgot that he wasn’t really supposed to touch things.

That was why, when he opened his laptop out of reflex, the burnt skin of his fingertips getting into contact with the cold aluminium, he let out a painful hiss while flinching.

His back was turned to Derek, but the alpha did not need to see his reaction, or expression, to know that something was not right.

“What’s wrong?”

Derek’s voice was calm, but there was urgency underlying in his tone, or maybe something else as well, but Stiles was too busy trying to slow down his quickened heartbeat at the sudden sharp pang spreading from his fingers to his whole arm, making him feel as if his arm was on fire, to even ponder on it any longer.

“Nothing. There was some bug on the laptop, so I kind of freaked out. Not all of us can be fearless werewolves,” Stiles fake-mocked, hoping Derek would let his unusual reaction slide out of annoyance with Stiles’s sassy remark, but of course he was born under an unlucky star.

“Stiles,” Derek’s low growl made Stiles’s heartbeat accelerate instead of going down and Stiles cursed under his breath the stubborn alpha in his bedroom.

Of course Derek would know he was lying, using his natural lie-detecting wolfy senses and that was really not fair, because Stiles not only was at a disadvantage of not having the same ability, but he also had to go into a detailed analysis of Derek’s very limited range of emotions every time they interacted.

Seriously, he should write a book on understanding someone’s emotions based solely on the dance of their eyebrows, the way he had to do whenever he was engaged in a discussion/argument with Derek.

However, he would first have to figure out the rest of Derek’s expressions, because so far he was only familiar with the ‘I am going to murder you’ eyebrows and the ‘ Could you really get any more annoying than you already are?’ exasperated look with slightly knotted eyebrows which the disgruntled alpha wore 80% of the time he was in Stiles’s  vicinity.

Still, he owed nothing to the suddenly uncharacteristically nosy alpha, so he turned around, cleverly letting the sleeves of his black hoodie cover most of his hands, before snapping at him in an irritated voice, “ Look, it’s none of your business. You came here for the info I have on how to defeat one nasty fire-breathing creature and not to chit-chat about me and my deepest, darkest secrets.”

Stiles hoped that that was enough to make Derek drop the subject.

Judging by Derek’s scowl and narrowed eyes, Stiles kind of realized that that was not the case.

“So, you are hiding some deep, dark secret,” Derek said in a contemplative voice, making it more a statement than a question.

Stiles let out an exasperated groan, before lifting his hands in front of him in a defeated manner, saying in a sarcastic voice, “ That’s right, Derek. You got me. My deep, dark secret is that I am in fact the… _Chimera_.”

He stressed that last word on purpose, thinking how he really needed some dramatic background music when he said that for a stronger effect, but before he could add something else to that, Derek was already letting out a low snarl, before practically materializing in front of him and grabbing his wrists.

Stiles widened his eyes in shock when he felt Derek’s fingers curling around his wrists, and he was grateful for the thin fabric of the hoodie preventing the skin on skin contact with the alpha, who was behaving rather odd at the moment, because he wasn’t sure how his body would react to that.

“What the hell…”

He heard Derek mumble to himself in a confused voice, his eyebrows furrowed as he examined Stiles’s palms with his sharp eyes and _oh shit._

Stiles had completely forgotten that he was actually the one who accidentally outed himself by raising his arms.

Way to go genius, he mock-applauded himself mentally.

“What happened to you?”

Derek’s demanding, rough voice brought him out of his reverie as he locked gazes with the alpha, whose eyes were practically piercing through him, into him, making him almost choke on his spit from the intimidating aura currently surrounding Derek.

“Uh, I forgot to put on protective gloves when I was taking out the hot baking tray out of the oven the other day and since I am just a mere human and don’t have super-healing powers, it will take some time for it to pass,” Stiles scoffed, trying to keep his heartbeat in check.

It was obvious that he failed the very second Derek shot him a disbelieving glare, saying in a firm voice, “ You know that I can hear your heartbeat, so why do you bother lying?”

Stiles let out an annoyed huff, still trying not to be too conscious of Derek’s fingers around his wrists, not letting go for one moment, as he said in an accusatory voice, “Gee, I don’t know, Derek. Hm, maybe because I am not a fan of murderous looking alpha barging into my bedroom out of nowhere with no sense of remorse and then going as far as invading my personal space and then violating the privacy of my thoughts which I would like to keep just for myself, thank you very much.”

Stiles didn’t even realize how worked up he was until he finished his little angry rant, only to realize he was breathing heavier right now.

Derek didn’t seem particularly bothered by his passionate speech, because when did he ever respect Stiles’s feelings, Stiles bitterly snorted, before he felt something rushing through his body.

He was so surprised by the sudden unfamiliar sensation coursing through his blood that he gasped loudly as he stared at Derek’s arms which were now lined with blackish kind of veins, running along his bicepses as Derek held his wrists in a slightly tighter grip.

“W-what are you doing?” Stiles asked in a dazed voice, his lips parted as he stared at the veins appearing and disappearing on the werewolf’s smooth skin in open fascination.

“ Taking your pain away,” Derek replied in a flat voice, but Stiles couldn’t help but stare at him in bewilderment as he practically yelled, “ What?! Why? How?!”

“Perks of being a werewolf,” Derek casually answered while shrugging his shoulders and Stiles really wanted to hit him for being so nonchalant about all of this, but the blissful sensation running through his body and relieving him of the almost-unbearable pain he felt for more than a day now was enough to stop him from answering.

Instead, he let his eyes close as his body became more relaxed, the tension from his shoulder dissipating at whatever voodoo healing magic Derek was currently applying to his poor hands.

Stiles wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Derek started lessening his pain, but at that moment he didn’t mind Derek’s presence at all, finding his touch very comforting, maybe even too much, since he let out something resembling a soft moan when a particularly strong ball of healing energy rushed from Derek’s fingers through his arms.

“It should at least last for a few more hours, but I suggest you ask a professional to help you with that.”

The first thing Stiles registered was not Derek’s voice, but the feeling of loss when Derek abruptly let go of his wrists, causing the pain to return, but as nothing more than an uncomfortable feeling in his joints and palms, unlike the previous searing sensation on and under his skin, as if somebody was constantly pouring boiling water onto every inch of the skin of his arms.

By the time he had again gotten used to that feeling, only much lessened, thanks to Derek’s instant pain-reliever wolfy ability, the alpha was already climbing out of the window.

Stiles was still too taken aback by everything that had happened in the past few seconds to even form some sort of a proper response, although he had no idea if there was even one, considering that Derek-Going-to-Rip-Your-Throat-Out-with-My-Teeth-Hale had actually helped him and not because of Scott, but just because…Well…He didn’t really have a clue why, but somehow it felt good.

He didn’t want to dwell on why he thought that was good too much and thankfully Derek was parting his lips to say something else, with one leg out of the window and the other still on the very dusty floor of his room, as Stiles noticed with horror just now.

“I don’t know what you got yourself into,” Derek started, causing Stiles to frown, “—and considering it’s you of all people, I am too afraid to even ask. Anyways, I don’t need my werewolf senses to know that you are lying, because just by looking at your palms, it is obvious that those burns aren’t from a baking tray. So, you better have a more plausible story ready, if Scott figures it out.”

Derek finished with an expressionless face and Stiles didn’t even realize that at some point he started holding his breath and then Derek mumbled to himself with a glower on his face, “He worries about you too much, already,” before disappearing out of Stiles’s room.

It was only after a few seconds that Stiles exhaled, before throwing himself on his bed while blinking up at the ceiling.

Wow, okay.

So, a couple of things for his already exhausted brain to go over.

  1. A) It seemed that Derek Hale wasn’t really just a major asshole, which Stiles had previously been so sure of and it even seemed as he was capable of selfless acts, which was a major revelation for Stiles.
  2. B) The previous statement, however, may not be completely true, because the last part that he grudgingly mumbled before exiting the window which Stiles had actually manage to hear, because all of his senses were focused on the alpha at that moment and that statement was enough to make him wonder if Derek hated the fact that Stiles was apparently standing in Scott’s way of completely severing his ties with humans and dedicating himself to fully ‘running with the wolves’.
  3. C) The final and most important thing in all that had happened in these past few minutes was the fact that Derek actually left without acquiring the info he came for. Therefore, he practically lurked, creeped the hell out of Stiles with his unexpected arrival, offered relief to him in the most surprising way and then left. Just like that.



Stiles really had no idea what to make of all that.

All that he knew was that he hated owing someone, especially Derek Hale.

That was why a plan had formed in his head, before he could even give it a second thought and realize that it was actually not the best thought idea he had, but hey—you snooze, you lose.

Which was why in the very next moment he was already dialing Scott’s number while trying to make his heart beat steady, in case werewolves could hear when someone was lying over the phone.

He doubted that that was the case, but there was no harm in being careful.

Scott answered after the second ring and Stiles immediately put on his best cheerful voice, saying, “Hey, buddy! I forgot to ask, how did the hunt go?”

Stiles gave Scott about 10 seconds to answer that, which he thought was pretty decent, because he knew and he could hear by Scott’s vexed tone of voice that this was going to be a long story for which he currently had no patience, with the pain in his palms increasing by each passing second, before he cut him off, saying, “Yeah, great. Anyways, I was thinking…”

As he explained to Scott what exactly it was that he had been thinking for a long time, although it had just occurred to him, he knew that Scott totally fell for it, judging by the pure excitement in his voice.

He would have maybe felt bad about deceiving his friend about his real intentions, but somehow, he didn’t yet want to reveal to Scott that Derek had seek him out, not once, but two times already, for stuff related to pack.

He didn’t know why he was so reluctant to tell Scott about it, but a part of him wanted this to stay between him and Derek for now while a larger part of him was screaming at him how that was totally idiotic, but he kind of pushed that judgmental voice to the depths of his mind, buried under hundreds of other, more relevant thoughts.

Or at least that’s what he liked to tell himself.

✢

 

It was only when he and Scott were climbing the steps to Derek’s loft a few days later that Stiles started feeling anxious and unsure about his plan.

That was further confirmed when they didn’t even get completely to the door, because it was being slammed open by Derek, who probably smelled them from afar, wearing the most hostile stare ever known to man which was unfortunately directed towards none other than Stiles.

Stiles frowned, because a) so rude and b) obviously his betas had better manners than him, Stiles thought, remembering how nicely Isaac had welcomed him then.

“What the hell are _you_ doing here??!”

Derek practically roared, all the while fixing Stiles with his deadly glare, but Stiles didn’t feel intimidated this time, considering what Derek had actually done for him the last time they saw each other.

That was why he responded with a wide grin, causing Derek to flinch, as he said, “Well, glad you asked Derek!”

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the wary look Scott was sending him, but it was too late now, because Stiles was on a mission and nothing was going to stop him now.

Not even one constipated-looking alpha in front of him.


	6. VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wasn't planing on updating so soon, but suddenly, inspiration hit me and I had to write this as soon as possible.

Stiles ignored Derek’s displeased glower as he pushed past him ( barely, since the guy was unmoving like a stone) and entered the loft.

“Anyways, Scott told me that you have been struggling with one nasty chimera, but no worries. Stiles Stilinski is here to save the day with his unrivalled wit,” Stiles announced confidently to  the room filled with mostly wary-looking werewolves, and one very pissed-off alpha which Stiles avoided having eye-contact with.

“And how exactly can a pale shrimp like _you_ help us?”

The werewolves didn’t even have to listen to the change in his heartbeat, because he was sure that his irritation in response to Erica’s mocking comment was already apparent in his expression, judging by the smirk on the blonde’s face.

Before he could return the jab, Scott was already growling next to him, causing Stiles to widen his eyes in slight fear when he realized that he was defending him and growling at Erica who was now snarling at him.

Shit.

That was so fuckin’ sweet of Scott, but also totally not what he wanted, because he didn’t want his best friend becoming werewolf food.

He was sure that even in the werewolf world cannibalism was not really approved, although judging by the glint of bloodlust in Erica’s now light yellow eyes there were always exceptions.

Before something could happen, a roar boomed through the loft, causing both Erica and Scott to flinch and slightly bow their heads.

It was fascinating, and absolutely scary at the same time, Stiles thought with an awe-struck expression mixed with horror as he watched Derek, whose canines had elongated as he spat out, “That’s enough, you two. And as for you,” Stiles’s heart thrummed in his chest, the feeling of nervousness eating away at his intestines when Derek said that while looking at him and then continued in a stern voice, “—we don’t need your help. So, you are free to leave.”

Stiles couldn’t help but openly gape at the jerk, who now wore a deadpan expression on his face, because what in the actual HELL?!!!

First, this asshole sneaked into his room, demanding for his help and then relieving his pain and disappearing just like that and now he was suddenly pretending to be all prideful and above accepting some puny human’s help, even though Stiles went out of his way to make it look like he was offering it to everyone for Scott’s sake and not just because he also felt like he owed Derek big time for the out-of-the-blue healing session a few days ago.

Well, it was clear that Derek had no idea just how stubborn Stiles could be when he wanted to and he was so ready to show him, which was why he crossed his arms over his chest, leveling Derek with an equally intense glare, spitting out a firm, “No.”

The silence that fell upon the enormous living room was enough to tell Stiles that probably nobody ever had dared say that to Derek before, but Stiles was not a werewolf which meant he didn’t have an urge to bow his head in front of the alpha whenever Derek decided to be an asshole ( so like 24/7) and bark orders without taking anyone’s opinion into consideration.

At last, some advantage of being human, Stiles though triumphantly.

His feeling of superiority was dampened by Derek’s eyes now glimmering with apparent homicidal intent as the low guttural sound coming from deep within his chest with the alpha baring his sharp teeth at him made Stiles instinctively take a step back.

He heard someone chuckling at his reaction and he was pretty sure it was Erica and if he wasn’t too busy thinking of a way to avoid getting ripped to pieces by one very mad alpha then he would have flipped her off in an instant.

Luckily, Scott, his best bro, had his back, or his front in this case as he stepped in front of Stiles protectively, saying in a firm, but slightly strangled voice, “D-derek, wait. I wanted him to come here. So, I am the one to blame.”

That seemed to have made Derek slightly snap out of his bloodthirsty, or more like—Stiles-thirsty ( and again not in a good way and seriously would he ever get lucky enough for someone to be thirsting after him in a sexual manner and not just murderous) mood as he stopped growling and straightened up.

He eyed Scott for a few seconds, his gaze calculating, or at least that was what Stiles concluded it was after dealing with Derek for a few months now to know when the alpha was being contemplative instead of plain ferocious.

“Scott, may I have a word with you?” Derek practically ordered, despite the so-called gentlemanly vocabulary he used, although there was nothing polite in his tone of voice.

Scott followed after him with a bowed head and slumped shoulders and _really_??

Was Derek really that much of a prick and hypocrite to think that it’s okay to barge into Stiles’s bedroom unannounced ( and unwelcomed, honestly), but when Stiles did the same while actually using the door like any well-mannered person, the alpha had the nerve to look like Stiles had slaughtered his whole family?

Okay, a shitty comparison, he realized as he remembered the Hale tragedy, but Stiles was livid, nonetheless.

Especially since now his best friend got into trouble, because of him.

He had no idea where Derek had disappeared off to with Scott, since they went up some spiral staircase and nobody else said a word about it.

However, as Stiles studied the faces of the other werewolves in the room which included Laura, Erica and Isaac, he realized that they all had identical expressions.

It was only then that he became aware of the fact that all three of them were probably using their super-hearing to listen in to Derek’s and Scott’s conversation and that was so not fair since it was probably about him!

“Hey!”

All three heads snapped in his direction, Erica staring at him much like Derek always did—with mixture of annoyance and desire to skin him alive while Laura was giving him the raised unimpressed eyebrow in response and huh, she and Derek really did look alike---cursed be their superb genes, while only Isaac was looking at him with a confused expression.

“ It’s not fair to leave me out of all the fun,” he said with a mocking grin, before adding, “—come on now. What is the big, grumpy wolf saying about me?”

Of course he should have known better than to actually get a response from any of them, although Erica did snort at him and said, “Nice try, shrimp,” while Laura just shook her head with a slight amused smile as if he was some insect unworthy of their attention, but still interesting enough in some way to actually make her grin.

The two of them completely ignored him after that and Stiles huffed in annoyance, before his gaze landed on the curly-haired boy a few feet away from him.

When Isaac realized that he had been caught looking at him, he got slightly startled and was about to look away, but then Stiles practically pleaded, whining a bit as he said, “Isaac, come on. Scott is my best bro and if Derek is threatening him, or something, I need to know, so I could go and kick his annoying alpha ass.”

Suddenly there was a loud crush upstairs and Stiles saw Laura snickering and _oh, right._

If they could hear Derek, then he could also hear Stiles and this insult probably just signed him a death sentence.

Well, it was not like Derek wasn’t planning on ending his life anyways, so eh, Stiles thought casually, before directing his gaze back to Isaac, who actually fidgeted, looking even apologetic as he said quietly, “S-sorry, Stiles. I really can’t.”

Stiles let out a defeated sigh, thinking how he really seemed to have misjudged Isaac.

The dark blonde really wasn’t that bad.

In fact, he was kind of adorable and seemed like he really wanted to help Stiles and damn, he was really going to have to accept him as Scott’s boyfriend and he might even totally approve of him in the future.

Before he could think about it further, Derek and Scott came downstairs with Derek having a pinched expression as always while Scott seemed kind of close to tears.

What the…?

Stiles frowned, moving towards his best friend and he was just about to ask what that alpha asshole did to him when Scott cleared his throat, looking anywhere but him as he said in a quiet voice, “ Stiles, I think you should go home. It’s for the best really. I am sorry.”

Stiles stood frozen for a few seconds, blinking at his friend, the hole in his chest widening a bit, before he asked in an incredulous voice, “Are you serious?”

He saw how Scott winced a bit at that, but before he got an answer from his best friend, Derek was already responding instead of him in a sharp voice, “Does it look like he is joking?”

Stiles bore holes in Derek’s stupid face, scoffing as he said, “I am surprised you even know what that means, since you look like you have never cracked a joke in your life.”

Stiles thought he had heard Laura and even Erica snickering again behind Derek, but it was all drowned out when the alpha’s threatening growl reverberated through the loft, making Stiles shut his mouth as he curled his fingers into a frustrated fist.

He threw one more glance at Scott, who was looking at him with a miserable expression, mouthing at him, ‘Please go.”

Stiles wanted to yell and argue and grab Scott by the elbow and haul him out of there with him, but instead he replied curtly, “Fine. I don’t want to be somewhere where I am obviously unwanted.”

He turned around, not even sparing a glance at anyone as he said that, but when he opened the metal door, he stopped for a moment, before looking at Derek straight in the eye, saying in the most disgusted voice possible, “ I knew I was right about you since the beginning. No wonder you became an alpha by using force, since that seems to be the only way you operate.”

He didn’t even wait for Derek’s response, or reaction as he slammed the door shut behind him and practically ran down the stairs, his heart beating like crazy.

✢

The warm, almost scalding water cascading down his exhausted body, did nothing to disperse the swirl of thoughts in Stiles’s head.

Letting out a long sigh as he got out of the shower and dried his body with a towel, Stiles pulled on his comfy, worn-out light gray sweatpants and his favourite maroon coloured sleeping t-shirt .

He threaded through the hallway, practically dragging his feet from the bathroom to his bedroom.

He shivered slightly in the hallway, disliking the emptiness of the house with his father practically working himself to the bone ever since he had gotten back from his trip.

This big case had him constantly pulling all-nighters and the apparent dark bags under his dad’s eyes and the weak smiles he would send Stiles in those rare moments they managed to see each other made Stiles’s knot of concern expand in his chest.

The only advantage of how little they saw each other during the past week was that it allowed for the skin on Stiles’s palms to almost completely return to normal, before his father could notice it and question him about it.

Stiles was sure that he wouldn’t have been able to convince his father so easily that he accidentally burned his hands when he touched something he shouldn’t have like how he managed to fool Scott a few days ago when his best friend noticed the poor state of his palms and immediately inquired about it.

Stiles had realized, after dealing with Derek, who instantly saw through his every lie with his unfair wolfy lie-detector abilities, that it was possible to lie to a werewolf by carefully choosing your words and the way you phrase them, so technically, he wasn’t lying to Scott when he gave him that explanation, because clearly he wasn’t supposed to touch the Nemeton.

When his best friend didn’t call him out, saying he was full of shit, or what not, and showed no signs that indicated that Scott thought Stiles was not telling the truth, Stiles came to a conclusion that he was going to have to practice that technique of deception more, since he knew that he would always be dealing with some werewolves, whether they are from Derek’s pack or not.

When he thought of Derek’s pack, a sudden sharp feeling went straight through his chest as he remembered how he was literally kicked out of the loft a few hours ago and even betrayed by his best friend, who actually pleaded for him to leave.

He felt so humiliated, angry and even hurt at that moment that he really wanted to punch something hard.

Presumably Derek’s stupid face.

The same face that was now just a few feet away from him as Stiles entered his bedroom.

He almost shrieked ( in a very manly fashion of course, cuz guys totally shrieked, yup), his hand flying to his chest from surprise at the sight of the alpha leaning against his window with an impassive, almost bored, expression as always.

Luckily, the sudden rush of fury won over as Stiles immediately glared at the alpha and spat out, “Oh, hell to the no.”

That made Derek knit his eyebrows, a frown gracing his perfect features ( damn him) as he parted his lips, clearly wanting to object.

However, Stiles gave him no time as he narrowed his eyes even more at the asshole in front of him, his voice harsh as he spoke, “No. Whatever it is-just no. You don’t get to be the biggest jerkoid ever, kicking me out of your loft in front of everyone to show your dominance while turning my best friend against me in the process and then loom over here, demanding my help. So kindly fuck off and out of here.”

Stiles didn’t even realize how wound up he was until he finished talking, almost out of breath.

The alpha shut his mouth at that, pursing them in a tight line as he clenched his jaw, thinking of what to respond.

Finally, he released an annoyed huff as he grumbled, “You are exaggerating—as always.”

Stiles gaped at the shameless bastard and he was so ready to continue his angry rant and scream at him, but he knew that it was no use and he was already so tired of dealing with Derek.

Instead, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before saying in an eerily calm voice, “Get out. Now.”

A tense silence followed and Stiles naively thought that for once in his life, Derek would actually listen to him.

Much to his dismay, the alpha finally responded in a thick voice, “Gladly. Just tell me how to kill the chimera.”

Stiles gritted his teeth at that, his eyes flying open with his heart pounding in his chest as he furiously hissed, “You are fucking unbelievable. Do you really think I’ll tell you shit just because you bark your threats at me and slam me into any hard surface your eyes land on?”

Stiles saw Derek flinch at that last comment, but he paid him no mind, continuing to vent out all of his frustrations he felt ever since this whole werewolf fiasco he found himself in a few months ago.

“Well, guess again. You are not my alpha, so you cannot order me around. Perks of being a human, finally.”

As he said that last part, Stiles realized that he had actually meant it.

For some time now he had been wondering if he was missing out by not being a werewolf as well, constantly thinking how if he was then he and Scott wouldn’t have drifted apart and he would have been able to understand his best friend better, but at what price?

A price of having some emotionally constipated prick like Derek bossing him around, causing him to submit to him, because of some werewolf hierarchy and what not??

If Stiles valued anything in his life that was the ability and freedom of making stupid-ass decisions he was probably going to regret later on.

But, _he_ was the one doing it.

He, and nobody else, was solely responsible for whatever idiotic thing he did, or maybe even in those rare occasions-some amazing things as well.

That was a privilege he had by staying human and if he ever did make a mistake in judgment then it was all upon him.

The blame would be his, the burden would also be his to bear and while most people would rather not deal with that, he was not like them.

He found satisfaction in being free to make his own decisions like that, to be his own man, while he saw no pleasure in having to do things you didn’t even want to do just because of some animal instinct that told you to listen to ‘your alpha’ as if being an alpha also meant always being right.

It didn’t.

“You want to kick me out of your loft? Fine. You want me not to taint your wolfies with my amazingness? Also fine. But, what is not fine is you being a hypocrite, throwing me out and being all growly and then coming here for help.”

Stiles finally finished his angry monologue, raising his chin in a challenging manner.

He couldn’t quite determine Derek’s expression in that moment, and if Stiles didn’t know any better, it even seemed as if the alpha was…Distressed by his words?

But, that couldn’t be right, Stiles thought in confusion.

Because, Derek Hale didn’t care about what Stiles had to say, or how he felt.

That was why when Derek’s response, “You are human!” followed in a half-hiss, half-shout, his voice actually sounding exasperated, Stiles couldn’t help but be surprised.

Derek was giving him this look as if Stiles was supposed to figure out what went on in that thick skull of his from just one sentence and usually Stiles would have enthusiastically jumped at the opportunity of analyzing Derek’s new expression and cataloguing it in his series of ‘ Derek Hale’s Limited Facial Expressions’, but this time he was just too tired for that.

The previous adrenaline that coursed through his veins as he spat out all of his resentments about Derek’s attitude towards him, had faded away, just leaving him worn-out and wishing to go to bed already, close his eyes and pretend like all of this was some nightmare.

That was probably why he returned to his usual sarcastic-self, as he responded in a mocking voice, “ Wow, truly an acute observation, Derek. Do they teach that at werewolf school of obvious things?”

He knew that he shouldn’t have said that, even before Derek gave him that slightly betrayed look, but before he could try and fix things, Derek already snarled out a harsh, “ Forget it,” before heading towards the window.

Stiles was irritated once again, this time because Derek was actually acting like Stiles was the bad guy here and it was as if he did something to the alpha which was totally unfair, since he was the sole victim here while Derek was the one molesting him!

He didn’t get to look like that and make guilt rise from the bottom of Stiles’s belly which was probably why he didn’t even stop to think twice as he grudgingly mumbled, “ Next time I’m so gonna line the window with a shitload of mountain ash to stop your furry ass from entering.”

He didn’t even realize what he had just revealed until he saw Derek tensing, one leg already out of the window.

When the alpha turned around to face him, glaring at him with fierce crimson eyes, it was only then that Stiles became aware of what had just left his mouth.

“What did you just say?”

Derek’s voice seemed emotionless, but Stiles could hear the low rumble underneath it, his tone laced with silent fury.

Stiles widened his eyes, wearing a panicked look because—fuck.

What the hell was he supposed to say?

He knew that if he said Scott told him that would piss Derek even more, because he was sure that not even Scott knew about mountain ash, since that was definitely something related to magic and the only thing that Scott ever mentioned about werewolves not being immune to was mostly wolfsbane used by hunters.

Derek, however, being born as a werewolf, probably knew much more about magic and mountain ash and what not and _shit._

Stiles desperately tried searching his brain for some plausible lie to make Derek back off and stop emitting those murderous vibes, but his silence seemed to have further ignited Derek’s rage as the alpha now took one large step towards him, his voice low and demanding, “ How the hell do you know what mountain ash is?”

Stiles unconsciously took a step back, offering a shrug of his shoulders, followed by a weak, “Uh, Google?”

He probably shouldn’t have framed it as a question, judging by the rumble Derek emitted from the depths of his chest as his glare intensified, his voice harsh as he hissed, “You are lying!!”

Technically, Stiles was supposed to be scared at being discovered, but then his usual spite kicked in.

After all, if Derek could be all mysterious and bossing everyone around, even throwing him out of the loft for reasons everyone but him knew, since it was obviously a sin to be tainting the werewolves with his mortal ways, then two could play that game.

That was why Stiles quirked his eyebrow at Derek as he responded in a defiant voice, “So what?”

That clearly threw Derek off as the alpha’s deadly stare was replaced by a confused frown.

“What?”

Derek asked with a dumbfounded expression which was why Stiles had enough guts to say in a triumphant voice, “You heard me. Why should I tell you the truth when you obviously won’t do the same. And I am not a fan of being treated like shit, so there you have it.”

He knew that he was playing with fire, or, even worse—with one already fuming alpha, who took another step towards him while clenching his jaw and curling his fist at Stiles’s response.

“What? Are you going to slam me to a wall like always and threaten to rip my throat out? Well, whatever boosts your alpha ego, I guess, “ Stiles added in an ironical voice, making Derek stop effectively.

He was surprised that worked.

The alpha just stared at him, his expression hardening, before he disappeared in a matter of seconds.

He was so fast that Stiles didn’t even manage to see when Derek jumped out of his window, but instead felt a chilly air seeping through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

He rushed to the window, looking down, but he couldn’t spot the alpha anywhere.

In the end, he closed the window, pulling the curtains and slumping on the floor.

When did this become his life, Stiles lamented, while messing up his hair from frustration.

✢

In the end, about an hour after Derek had stormed out of his bedroom, Stiles sent a quick text to Scott in which he explained how to kill a chimera.

After all, no matter how aggravated he was with Derek’s inability to use proper words, instead always resorting to glaring and growling at Stiles, he still did not wish for his best friend to turn into some half-breed’s snack.

He got the reply literally 2 seconds after he had hit the ‘send’ button which was why he suspected that Scott had been cradling his phone in his hands ever since the incident at Derek’s loft, waiting, or more like—chanting to some higher forces, for Stiles to text him.

It wouldn’t actually be the first time Scott did that after they had an argument, Stiles snorted as he remembered ‘ The Great Cookie Dispute of 2014’ when Scott snatched the last sacred chocolate chip cookie Melissa made specifically for Stiles’s birthday.

She made them only twice a year, for Scott’s and Stiles’s special days respectively, saying how the secret ingredient that made them have an out-of-this world taste was some powder Scott’s grandma used to make.

Unfortunately, when she died, she carried the recipe for the powder to the grave ( selfish old hag, Stiles thought bitterly) and Melissa was only left with a small amount of the powder that she found in her mother’s kitchen after her death.

That was why she only made those to-die-for/to-kill-for ( cuz Stiles would and he almost did—Scott, at that time)cookies in special occasions.

Stiles felt so betrayed when he saw that last piece of cookie disappearing in his so-called bro for life’s mouth that, despite Scott’s extremely guilty looking expression and him begging Stiles for forgiveness, he ran to his bedroom, slamming the door shut in Scott’s traitorous face and locking it.

He sulked for an hour, before letting out a defeated sigh and shooting a text to Scott how he was forgiven despite being a major asshole.

What followed then was a ‘Holy shit!’ coming from the other side of his door, effectively startling Stiles.

When he warily opened them, Scott, who had apparently never even gone home in the first place, opting to stay slumped against Stiles’s bedroom door, fell on his back, looking up at Stiles with wide eyes full of awe.

That was when Scott had explained to him how he had spent that hour of Stiles ignoring him, staring intently at his phone, wishing for Stiles to text him until it finally worked.

It took Stiles a full week after that to convince Scott ( although, judging by how quickly Scott had just texted him, it wasn’t that successful) that he was not a telepath and that if he was, it wouldn’t have taken him a full hour before he ‘summoned’ Stiles to answer him by using his mind.

This time, however, there was no Scott on the other side of his door, but just a text that said, ‘ Thanks, bro. You are the best. J And…I am really sorry about today…: (((( ‘

Stiles scoffed after he read Scott’s reply and he had an immense urge to respond back with, ‘You should be,’ but in the end he just tossed his phone to his bed without actually replying.

✢

It was about two days after Stiles had his quarrel with Derek that Scott finally showed his face in the Stilinski household.

Of course, he just had to wear his usual ‘kicked puppy face’, making Stiles’s previous promise to himself how he was going to be as cold as ice towards Scott when they saw each other next time, fail miserably.

Instead, he just let out an annoyed huff as he let Scott into the house.

His father had already gone to work, so it was just the two of them with Scott trailing after him in the living room with a desperate look on his dumb, adorable face.

He plopped on the sofa while Scott stood next to it, fidgeting and looking all unsure, causing Stiles to snap at him.

“Oh, just come here already.”

And he knew that his resolve of giving Scott hard time had crumbled completely when Scott looked up at him with those large, hopeful eyes and practically threw himself into the seat next to him, cuddling up against Stiles.

He just needed a tail to wag it and he would be a literal puppy, Stiles snorted mentally as he joked, “ Down, boy.”

Scott, of course, frowned at him, but backed off just a bit.

They had never been weirded out about hugging and stuff like that, but ever since Scott became a werewolf, he had become more clingier than usual, often craving just a simple touch from Stiles, or in those weirder times, actually nuzzling Stiles’s neck.

When Stiles asked him about it the first time Scott did it, with a freaked out face, Scott at least had the decency to look bashful as he blushed and explained how it was ‘werewolf instinct’.

Stiles pretended to believe him, although he couldn’t blame Scott, because who could resist a whiff of the charming Stiles Stilinski.

Everyone, but Scott, apparently, he remembered bitterly, thinking of the lack of people/werewolves lining up to scent him, grope him, touch him—whatever, really, he wasn’t picky.

Before he could further mourn his forever-alone relationship status, Scott suddenly became all serious, his head lowered as he said, “Anyways, I am sorry about not coming earlier. We have been kind of super busy with getting rid of the chimera and thanks for the valuable info. We burned it and buried it deep in the forest.”

“So, you had a nice, cozy chimera bonfire? Perfect for werewolf bonding ,” Stiles replied in sarcastic tone of voice, making Scott scowl.

“ Stiles, I know you are still angry about what had happened and I am sorry again…,” his best friend apologized for the nth time, this time in person, however, and not just over text messages, but it wasn’t enough.

Stiles clearly couldn’t be the mature one and keep his irritation bottled up as he snorted mockingly and said, “No need to be sorry that you became one of Derek’s minions. It was bound to happen since the moment you joined him, although I kind of hoped that you would at least fight harder for me.”

Stiles tried to ignore the pang of guilt when he saw Scott’s hurt, as well as offended expression, and instead focused on his own knot of pain in his gut.

“I am not one of his minions,” Scott responded haughtily, before adding, “ Also, the reason why I asked you to leave was for your own good. After all, it was my fault in the first place that I brought you there without thinking of the consequences. Luckily, Derek pointed that out, before anything bad happened to you.”

Stiles stared incredulously at his best friend, who seemed dead-serious, and not for the first time since Scott joined Derek’s pack, Stiles wondered if the alpha had really somehow brainwashed Scott, or all of his other pack-mates for that matter.

He did remember reading in the first book that Deaton had given him, how some alphas had the ability to manipulate their pack members which actually explained a lot, because only masochists would willingly join the grumpy alpha’s pack and he knew for a fact that Scott was not one.

“Dude, your only fault is that you did not listen to _moi_ and did not trust my wise words when I told you not to join the sleazebag pack. Nothing else. It’s not your fault that Derek is the king of douchebags,” Stiles said resolutely.

“No, Stiles. You don’t understand. When I brought you to the loft, I put your life in danger which was why Derek lost it,” Scott said in an unwavering voice, and huh? Come again? Derek did what now??

Stiles blinked a few times at his friend, before letting out a chuckle and saying, “Okay, Scotty. Did you hit your head when you were burying that chimera, because now you are just sprouting nonsense.”

“No, Stiles! Listen to me, I am serious!”

Stiles stared at his best friend, feeling too stupefied by the sudden desperation and urgency in Scott’s voice.

Stiles placed a tentative hand on Scott’s shoulder to calm him down, saying, “Okay, buddy. I am all ears.”

That seemed to have made Scott get a grip as he relaxed a bit and started talking in a hurried voice.

“Okay, so the real reason why Derek got so angry with me bringing you there was that the chimera got a bit vindictive after we chased her to that town. It actually came after us, loitering around the loft the night before I brought you and even tried attacking Isaac. So, Derek immediately reprimanded me for bringing you—a human, to a room full of werewolves with one angry chimera thirsty for some werewolf blood.”

Stiles found many faults in that explanation, but the first thing that was on his mind and that he voiced out was, “But, why would Derek care if I became chimera’s food? After all, he despises me, so this would be beneficial to him.”

Scott rubbed a hand over his face, as if Stiles was being the frustrating one here, when it was apparent that it was Scott with his ridiculous excuses for Derek’s rude behavior towards him.

Brainwashed indeed.

“ Stiles, I know you don’t trust him and I admit that sometimes he doesn’t have the best approach to things and that he should actually use words, instead of snarling all the time and making people misunderstand him…,” Stiles snorted at that, because yeah, Derek did indeed need an extreme attitude makeover.

A.S.A.P.

Scott ignored him and continued, “ …but. He is a good alpha. He cares for his pack and for the people of Beacon Hills. Why do you think he was so intent on getting rid of the chimera? It was because it had already killed people in nearby towns and actually hurt 2 kids here in Beacon Hills.”

Stiles frowned at that, because he wasn’t aware that there were children involved too.

Then, as if through some haze, he remembered some police files he got a glimpse of before his dad went on that trip and there was some kid with one burned side of his face.

Stiles winced, just remembering that.

And his father did tell him this morning that the case he had been working on was finally closed which meant that he would get some decent sleep and stop looking like zombie.

And now it all made sense.

The big case his father was working on was actually the one concerning chimera’s victims.

And apparently the one he owned his gratitude to for making his father look less like a lifeless ghost and more like the usual Sheriff, was none other than Derek and his pack.

Huh.

Stiles felt weird about that.

It was kind of hard to accept the fact that Derek was actually, maybe, not such a…Bad guy?

It was only now that Derek’s exasperated accusation of him being human from that night made sense.

Seriously, that idiot of a sourwolf needed to start using his words the right way, instead of making people assume things.

If he had just told Stiles all of what had Scott had told him instead of kicking him out of the loft and then acting like some prick, then maybe Stiles wouldn’t be feeling so shitty right now and cursed be Derek for making him feel so lousy.

Well, there was only one way to fix this, Stiles thought with sudden determination.

Derek Hale had no idea just who Stiles Stilinski was and how persistent he could be when he set his mind to it.

But, he was going to find out soon enough, Stiles thought with a wicked grin spreading on his face.

✢

“Well, Mr. Stilinski, took you much longer than I expected. With your obvious innate curiosity, I was surprised when you haven’t showed up here again in a week’s time.”

Stiles gaped at the bald man, who was now smiling at him with that subtle, secretive upward tilt of the corners of his mouth.

“B-but you said that I should read both books and only then come back!” Stiles accused which actually made Deaton let out a chuckle, “I am surprised you actually listened to me.”

Stiles scratched the back of his head and he would have felt slightly offended except that he kind of maybe…Had not read the second book.

 “Oh. So, I was right. You didn’t finish them,” Deaton said knowingly which made Stiles let out an exasperated ,” I finished one! And a half of the second…But, I need practice and not just theory. I need to get stronger.”

“Thought so,” the vet said, once again wearing that mysterious smile.

Just as Stiles was about to reply something snarky, Deaton narrowed his eyes at him, any trace of amusement ( if that’s what Stiles would call it) disappearing from his face as he said in a serious voice, “ Also, you should have not gone looking for the Nemeton without consulting me.”

Stiles widened his eyes in shock, before glancing at his palms which barely had any scars left on them, so how did Deaton know…” Please. I am more than experienced to know and _feel_ when you have been going around, touching the source of magical powers,” the vet said and Stiles blanched.

Holy shit, could he read minds?!

Before Stiles could say anything, Deaton smirked, saying, “I can’t.”

Seeing Stiles’s horrified expression, Deaton’s smirk grew as he said in a slightly ominous voice, “Or can I?”

Shit.

Just who exactly was this guy, Stiles wondered again as the door behind him closed out of nowhere, before Deaton said, “ Now, let’s start,” the room becoming darker and causing Stiles to swallow hard.

Maybe he should have read those books first, he thought now, a slight tinge of panic twisting his gut.


	7. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the very long wait and thanks for the support and comments. :)

“So, doc, why exactly haven’t you told Scott yet about your…uh—special set of skills?”

Stiles was proud of himself for the way he phrased that, because even he had no idea what it  was exactly that Scott’s boss was capable of doing other than apparently knowing a shitload of stuff about the supernatural world along with the ability to smile like some evil genius.

Before getting an actual response, Stiles first heard an exasperated sigh and he turned around from where he had been sitting for at least 15 minutes now, staring at the candle Deaton had lit up and then told him to try and extinguish the flame with the power of his mind.

Needless to say, not only was he not able to do so, but as time passed, Stiles was getting more and more convinced that the flame was actually getting stronger—mocking his lack of magical abilities.

What he was met with was the bald man rubbing his temples as he was leaning against the metal table in his office , before looking up and shooting Stiles an unimpressed look as he said, “ It hadn’t even been 5 minutes since the last time you said something. I told you that in order for you to conjure up your magical powers, you needed to focus. That means—NO TALKING.”

Stiles huffed, before muttering, “Easy for you to say since you don’t have ADHD.”

It wasn’t solely the fact that he forgot to take Adderall this morning that was causing him to be unable to focus, but it was just that his mind was swarmed with questions of all sorts about werewolves, magic and all that sort of stuff and the one person who seemed to have all the answers, or most of them at least, was intent on ignoring him.

He was now glaring at the candle, not having gotten the answer he wanted and he was tempted to simply open his mouth and blow the flame out when Deaton spoke again.

“I don’t think it’s necessary for him to know that yet. After all, if the Hales haven’t told him and he is a part of their pack, then I have no reason to, either.”

Stiles immediately turned around, half-gaping, his eyes wide as he asked, “The Hales know about you?!”

Deaton just looked at him with an expression that said, ‘duh, you idiot’, as he flatly responded, “Of course. After all ,I was the previous emissary for the Hale pack when Talia was still alive.”

“ The emi—what now?”

Stiles asked with a confused expression causing the vet to shake his head as if saying, ‘you are a lost cause’.

Stiles would be offended at that, but he was too curious at that point and in need of answers that he patiently waited for the doc to answer his question.

“See, if you had read that second book then you would have known all about it,” Deaton said making Stiles scratch his neck awkwardly while shrugging his shoulders in a ‘what can you do’ manner.

That made Deaton let out another defeated sigh, before he explained further,” An emissary acts as an advisor to the wolf pack, keeping them connected to their human side. “

Stiles waited for some more information, his feet bouncing on the ceramic tiles of the office, but that seemed to be it as the vet just turned to the dog with the injured paw he was healing.

That was it?!

Stiles barely contained himself from grumbling under his breath, because how could Deaton reveal that apparently not only the Hales knew of him, but he was someone who had such an important role in their lives and then not give any further explanation on the matter?!

So unfair.

Stiles returned back to giving the death stare to the candle’s flame, his thoughts drifting to the new information he acquired on one part of Deaton’s life.

Hm, he wondered what Talia Hale was like and if she was the one Derek inherited his bad-temper from?

Naturally, he would have asked Deaton all about it, but it was clear to him that even he wouldn’t be able to get any more information from the man today.

He was like some version of Beacon Hills Yoda, although less green and slightly taller.

However, both Deaton and Yoda were baldies, so the comparison wasn’t so far off.

He wondered if Deaton would kick him out of the office if he told him about his sudden revelation of the connection between him and Yoda?

Although, Stiles considered that being compared to Yoda was one of the biggest compliments ever, but somehow he wasn’t even sure if Deaton knew what ‘Star Wars’ is, so he kept his mouth shut.

An incredibly difficult task for him really.

✢

Despite Scott’s explanation about why Derek acted like such a prick when he kicked him out of the loft, Stiles wasn’t about to think of Derek as some saint now.

Definitely not.

However, what he was going to think about was the way to somehow improve his strained relationship with the sourwolf.

After all, Scott was the link that would inevitably cause them to clash in the future, just like they did even before Scott was in Derek’s pack and Stiles had to prevent that from happening, or at least minimize it.

Scott was far too important to him to let the fact that Derek and he were almost never on the same page come between him and his best friend.

So, he needed to find a way for them to at least tolerate each other.

And for that to happen, he needed to talk to Derek.

He wasn’t too thrilled about that, but he knew that it was the only way to achieve something.

However, he sure as hell wasn’t going to the loft to look for him and risk getting humiliated in front of the whole pack once more.

He may be a tough cookie, but even he wasn’t immune to constantly embarrassing himself.

He had enough of that when he was crushing on Lydia, so he really didn’t need a repetition of that period of his life he tried to forget ever happened.

So, how was he then supposed to get the alpha, who was still pissed off at him, to talk to him alone and without anyone else knowing of it?

He tapped his chin with his finger, deep in thought until it finally hit him.

God, he really was smart, he thought with a pleased expression as he grabbed his dark grey hoodie from the floor and went out of the window.

He didn’t want to have to explain to his dad where he was going in the middle of the night and he was pretty sure that his father wouldn’t be too on board with the fact that his only son was going to the dark, spooky woods to lure one scary werewolf out.

Yup.

So, telling his dad was out of the question and sneaking out of the window was the best solution.

✢

You’d think he would have learned by now that nothing ever good came out of strolling the woods in the dead of the night, but he wouldn’t be the fearless Stiles Stilinski if he didn’t do that, he thought as he tried to determine where exactly he was supposed to go next.

Everything pretty much looked the same to him in the blackness of the night, the only light showing him the path being the silvery rays of the moon in the charcoal sky.

Still, he had no idea where exactly he was supposed to go, nor did he remember where exactly it was that he met Derek that time he went out to find the Nemeton and instead stumbled in into one grouchy alpha.

Even though Derek said that time how the woods were his property, Stiles was pretty sure Derek did not own all of it.

He knew that the Hale house was located somewhere in the forest and he was pretty sure that the territory around it belonged to Derek, but he had no idea in which direction the house was.

An hour ago when he got the idea to look for Derek in the middle of the night in the forest it seemed like the best plan ever.

Now, after walking through the spooky forest with no sense of direction, he started to realize how it may have not been one of his most clever plans.

Also, why was he even so sure that Derek would be in the woods tonight?

For all Stiles knew, the alpha may be chillin’ in the comfort of his huge-ass loft, being all mysterious and broody like always while he is here cruisin’ the ghostly woods.

Stiles was about to start one of his aggravated rants about the alpha, but then something crunched behind him.

His first reaction was to scream and run for his life.

However, with great effort he resisted that initial urge, having remembered why he had come here in the first place.

“D-derek?”

Stiles called out quietly, squinting in the darkness, not wanting to alert all the other supernatural beings out there whose existence he was not even aware of and had no particular desire in becoming acquainted with it in the dead of the night in the forest, a.k.a.— the perfect murder spot.

When nobody answered him, Stiles wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be comforted by that or not.

All he knew was that when the sound of twigs breaking under someone’s feet got louder and closer followed by a sound not at all resembling a wolf’s growl, but rather something more predatory, he wasted no time in running the fuck out of there.

He glanced back from time to time as he tried not to trip while his feet carried him to who knows which part of the forest, but he couldn’t see anyone, or anything for that matter.

What propelled him to keep moving at a fast speed was the fact that that thing was still behind him judging by the increasing pace and the unpleasant sound coming as if it was right behind him.

“Fuck!”

Stiles cursed out loud when his foot got stuck on a thick branch lying on the ground, probably having fallen after some harsh storm, causing him to lose balance.

He flailed his arms in an attempt to stop himself from falling, but it was already too late, his body having hit the ground with a loud thump, the wind knocked out of his lungs.

His heart was in his mouth as he heard deep breathing behind him and he was too scared to turn around and face his chaser.

“Other than constantly lying, are you deaf as well? I thought I told you that you are not welcome on my property.”

Stiles’s breath hitched when instead of that dreadful sound which had been echoing in his ears since he started running away from whatever it was that was going after him, he heard a growly, displeased voice he was very familiar with.

When he turned around and looked up, his body still ungracefully splayed on the ground, his gaze fell on one very disgruntled Derek Hale, who had his arms crossed over his chest, wearing his black leather jacket, clad in dark blue jeans and a loose gray T-Shirt, while staring at him with sharp eyes.

If anyone had told Stiles that he would feel so relieved to see the constantly surly alpha in front of him like he did in this moment, he would have called them crazy.

Also, he would have called them positively insane if they had told him that he would actually express that feeling of relief out loud, in front of that very same alpha.

“Derek, man. You have no idea how glad I am to see your grumpy face!”

Obviously, Derek was also feeling incredulous about his enthusiastic response, having narrowed his calculative eyes even more at him as he asked, “Did you hit your head when you fell?”

Stiles let out a loud laugh escape his lips at that, making Derek seem even more wary at his odd behavior, but he didn’t care.

All that it mattered in that moment was that he hadn’t become some creature’s food and he gets to live at least another day.

That was why Stiles finally got up, not missing the way Derek was still looking at him guardedly, and dusted off the dirt from his jeans, before looking at the alpha straight in the eye and grinning at him.

That seemed to have completely thrown Derek off his feet as he actually widened his eyes slightly at him, before saying in a low voice, “You are definitely not in your right mind. You need to get to the hospital and have your head checked.”

Stiles laughed once again at Derek’s serious statement, before he waved his hand dismissively at the alpha, who was once again staring at him as if he had gone insane, and said lightly, “Chill, Derek. I am fine, just glad to be alive. Anyways, it’s a good thing you showed up, because I need to have a word with you.”

At that, Derek immediately straightened up, his expression slightly hardening as he spat out, “I think you already said everything that you meant, so I don’t see the point of you disturbing me here.”

Jeez, Derek was such a drama-queen, Stiles thought when he realized what a grudge-bearer the sourwolf in front of him was.

Nevertheless, he didn’t let that stop him from saying what he wanted to say in the first place.

After all, he didn’t just willingly get into the ghostly woods at night, searching for a werewolf and being chased by some evil creature, only to go home without saying a word just because there was currently one sour-looking alpha in front of him.

“And then you say how I am the one exaggerating, Mr. Sourpuss,” Stiles said with an eye-roll causing Derek to glare at him.

He didn’t let that perturb him in the slightest as he continued, “Anyways, I came here because I want to offer a truce.”

That made Derek’s eyebrows shoot so high up that Stiles even thought they had disappeared at one point.

That was why he cleared his throat and quickly explained, “For Scott’s sake, of course. After all, I have to come to terms with the fact that unfortunately he is one of you hairballs now, whether I like it, or not. And you have to deal with the fact that I was in Scott’s life before any of you guys and that I am not going anywhere, no matter how much you would like me to.”

“Although I really don’t see why when I am such a delight,” Stiles added while nodding, choosing to ignore Derek’s totally rude and uncalled for eye roll at his answer.

He only spoke the truth after all and it wasn’t his fault that Derek was apparently too blind to notice all of the amazing qualities he possessed.

“So what exactly do you propose?”

Stiles was brought out of his bitter mental monologue when he heard Derek’s consent to his suggestion spoken in a gravelly voice.

“Come again?” Stiles blinked dumbfoundedly as he voiced out his disbelief.

Did Derek seriously agree for them to be at some sort of ‘not-constantly-at-each-other’s-throats’ terms?

“I am not going to repeat myself,” Derek half-snarled and added impatiently, “ State your terms and conditions and then I’ll state mine.”

Stiles stared at him in disbelief, because ‘terms and conditions’?

What were they in, some “Law&Order” episode or what, Stiles wondered as he stared at the alpha who seemed dead serious.

When was he not, though, Stiles concluded exasperatedly.

For that reason, he quickly said, “I want to be included in pack business. That means that I get to contribute with my outstanding wits and you actually take my suggestions into consideration. In front of everyone.”

It seemed to Stiles as though the tense silence that descended upon them after he made his requests lasted for hours instead of seconds with the way Derek was looking at him, his expression neutral, but his gaze strong and scrutinizing.

Finally, Derek’s low and rough, “Fine,” reached his ears making him openly gape at the alpha.

Well, it was what he deserved with his exceptional mind, but he just couldn’t believe that Derek Hale, the guy who practically contradicted him in every way, finally made the right ( and may he add—BEST) decision in his life.

Derek looked down, letting out an exhausted sigh as he said in a resigned voice, “You are going to keep being annoying and nosy whether I agree for you to help us from time to time, or not, so I chose the less painful option of letting you sometimes contribute to pack business.”

Stiles frowned, trying to ignore the insults lacing the only thing that mattered which was that he was allowed to pry his nose into wolfy matters without Derek growling at him as if he was going to rip him apart.

Okay, that part still wasn’t excluded, because he was pretty sure that as soon as he pushed one of Derek’s buttons, the alpha would lose his already thin patience with him, but still…

This was awesome in so many ways, because not only would he be able to learn more about werewolves and be involved with other supernatural creatures, but he would also be close to Scott, involved in this aspect of his life as well, securing his chances of staying Scott’s bro for life.

That was why he clasped his hands cheerfully as he exclaimed, “Perfect! So, what is our first task? Slaying some dragons, or maybe hunting for some leprechaun’s gold, because I am kind of tight with money and—,” unfortunately his rant was cut off by Derek raising his palm in front of him to stop him from talking.

He already looked fed up with Stiles and it hasn’t even been a few minutes since Stiles got the permission to be the brains of the grouchy alpha’s furry group of misfits.

“Our first task is to establish some ground rules,” Derek said seriously, causing Stiles to scowl.

He was never good with following rules and honestly Derek should have been aware of that by now, Stiles thought dissatisfiedly.

“First of all, in case we ever do need your assistance, we will text you. Only then are you allowed to share information with us and you are in no way to follow after us, or try to handle things on your own. Got it?”

Stiles didn’t get it.

Actually, he did, but he wasn’t pleased.

Still, Derek was staring at him, or more like—glaring and he didn’t seem like he was going to continue until Stiles agreed with what he said, so he just gave a curt nod, his lips forming into a displeased pout.

Derek ignored it as he continued in a formal voice, “Rule number 2. You do not come into my loft uninvited. My pack and I are not fond of intruders.”

“Uhm, ouch. Words hurt, you know that, dude,” Stiles mocked-hurt said as he put a hand on his chest after Derek’s ‘intruder’ comment.

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek slightly growled, but Stiles continued nevertheless.

“Also, Scott adores me and he is pack. Isaac also likes me and I think even your sister Laura appreciates my superb sense of humour.”

Stiles had never before seen someone rolling his eyes as hard as Derek in that moment, who responded in a low, flat voice, “Scott is a fool, who likes everyone. I am pretty sure Isaac tolerates you just because he turns into a love-sick puppy at the sight or mention of Scott and Laura’s main hobby since we were kids was to annoy me, so that’s probably the only reason she accepts your existence.”

Derek really had a talent of bringing people’s moods down.

Luckily, he wasn’t some ordinary human.

He was the indestructible Stiles Stilinski, who had already mastered the art of self-critique and deprecation, so whatever Derek insulted him with was nothing Stiles hadn’t thought of himself before.

That was why, being the mature one, as always, he stuck his tongue out at the alpha, who looked at him as if asking,’ are you freaking kidding me?’

Nevertheless, Derek continued with his strict military regime of limiting Stiles Stilinski’s ingenious mind.

“Rule number 3 and the most important one to follow,” Derek said all grim and imposing, making Stiles wait with batted breath.

“You do NOT BREAK RULES NUMBER 1 and 2 under any circumstances.”

Stiles gaped, because was he serious?!

“Okay, sourwolf, don’t you think you are going overboard? I mean it’s not like we are in some military camp and also this is all very limiting for me and—,” Stiles didn’t even get to finish the detailed argument he had in his head about why this was all a load of crap when Derek snapped, “ Take it or leave it.”

He was going to adamantly say how there was no way he was going to accept being treated like that, but then it occurred to him how Derek stated that he cannot come into the loft uninvited.

Well, Scott could always invite him.

Over and over again until Derek was sick of his adorable face although Stiles suspected the alpha already had enough of dealing with him for life, but those were minor, unimportant details.

Technically, he was not breaking rule number 2 if he appeared in loft every time Scott invited him, or every time Stiles told Scott to invite him.

God, he was so fucking brilliant, he thought smugly as he confidently accepted Derek’s conditions.

✢

He was so fucking stupid.

How was he ever going to convince Derek of his resourceful mind and of his general usefulness to the pack when he couldn’t even realize how it was not his smartest decision to go into the woods alone (AGAIN!), following after some tiny flying creature until he was tied to some tree deep in the forest by that same creature.

He tried to get himself free, but the ropes were invisible and magical thanks to the pixie’s magic which was what that creature was.

Great.

Not only was he captured by some flying insect which was the size of his hand, but now he was also surrounded by a gang of devious looking pixies while waiting to be rescued.

“Oh, your pack is approaching. Perfect,” the pixie commander stated with a pleased smirk causing Stiles to glare at her, hoping she would combust and turn into dust just from his stare alone.

Unfortunately, she didn’t.

Stiles proclaimed her the commander, because everyone seemed to listen to her orders and truth to be told—she looked the bitchiest of them all with her small, sharp eyes, pointed ears and thin lips.

She was convinced that he was an important pack member since he strongly smelled of werewolves and humans were rare in wolf packs, so according to her, he must be valuable enough for them for her to lure them in using him as bait.

Stiles had no idea how to explain to her that Scott turned into a cuddly furball ever since he had got bitten, constantly sniffing his neck whenever he came over to his house and Stiles had even caught him rubbing his nose into some of his T-Shirts, causing him to always lightly slap his ‘snout’ whenever that happened and chide him playfully, calling him a ‘bad doggie’.

Naturally, Scott didn’t really appreciate that, but he was always too embarrassed by his strange werewolf behavior in those moments that he said nothing, opting to sulk and pout until Stiles bribed him with snacks and movies.

Back to the matter at hand, Stiles couldn’t allow this.

It hadn’t even been two days since Derek somehow agreed to tolerate his presence and let him contribute to pack business with his knowledge on the supernatural and now he was already in need of rescuing when he wasn’t even a pack member.

No, he definitely couldn’t let himself be so useless.

He felt so annoyed, helpless and frustrated and the itch spreading through his body was making him fidgety and it was as if his whole body was suddenly electrified with his fingers tingling causing him to close his eyes to try and get rid of this strange sensation, but he could hear the pixies laughing with glee as the werewolves were getting closer and this wasn’t right.

He couldn’t breathe, or think, the rage building inside of him, blinding him completely as he gritted his teeth and firmly yelled, “NO!!!”

His eyes flew open in an instant and he wasn’t even aware that he was suddenly free until his knees hit the ground.

He blinked in confusion as he stared at his hands which were now splayed across the soft ground and when he looked up, he saw the pixies staring at him with identical terrified expressions.

The only word he managed to pick up clearly was an awe-struck ‘a druid,’ before the leader fairy was quickly spitting out orders in what he presumed was pixie language, causing them to disperse in a matter of seconds.

“Stiles? Are you okay?”

Stiles didn’t even realize he wasn’t alone anymore as he heard Scott’s worried voice and when he looked up from the ground where he had been kneeling ever since he inexplicably made the pixies fled, he saw that he was surrounded by the werewolves with mixed expressions of curiosity and concern.

Well, he had absolutely no idea how exactly he was supposed to explain to them what had happened.

✢

Stiles was amazed  at how steady his heartbeat was when he lied to the pack about how the pixies flew away in fright when they realized too many werewolves were coming for him.

Erica even stated confidently, “No surprise there. We are fuckin’ badass after all. Well, I am.”

Nobody questioned him after that which should have made him extremely relieved.

So why was it then that he could feel the back of his neck prickling only to turn around and see Derek staring at him with suspicious eyes as if he could see right through his lie?

Did Derek have some sort of an alpha lie detector that the others didn’t, causing him to figure out the truth even without the need to listen to his heartbeat, or what?

Stiles felt irked by the alpha, who seemed to always call him out on his bullshit, and even though he was silent now and just watching him, Stiles felt restless.

He couldn’t wait to get away from Derek’s thorough gaze burning at the back of his neck.

✢

Even though Scott and Isaac insisted on walking him back home after the whole pixie fiasco, Stiles somehow managed to dissuade them from it by practically pushing Scott into Isaac’s arms while blurting out how he didn’t have a voyeuristic werewolf kink, making both boys splutter.

Stiles used their distraction to his advantage as he cheekily grinned at them, before dashing off into the sunset.

Or well, towards his house to be more precise.

He loved Scott and appreciated his worry, but he wanted to be alone at the time being.

He needed time to think about what it was exactly that caused his powers to suddenly manifest when there was not even a hint of them whenever he practiced with Deaton.

Also, once again he felt slightly guilty about lying to Scott and not telling him of his magical abilities, but he still wasn’t ready to share that with anyone.

At least until he learned to somehow control his powers or at least summon them on his own and not accidentally, because then he would be really useful to Scott and the pack.

Like this, he was a walking disaster who could go off at any time.

When he came home he found a note from his dad on the kitchen table who was informing him how he would be working late.

Next to the note there were a few paper bills for him to order some food.

Stiles trudged upstairs, feeling completely worn out with no appetite at all at that moment.

He wanted nothing more than to throw himself on his bed and sleep for hours.

Maybe it was precisely because he was so exhausted that he didn’t notice anything strange as he entered his bedroom.

It was only when he was about to plop down on his very inviting bed that a gruff voice behind him made him snap out of his trance-like state of mind.

“So, what really happened out there?”

“Sweet BEJESUS!”

Stiles’s manly shriek was followed by him turning around so fast that not only did he manage to stub his toe on the night dresser causing him to hiss in pain, but he also managed to knock over his night lamp with his elbow.

When he looked towards the window where the cause for this disaster was, he found himself staring into one extremely unimpressed Derek Hale, who just raised his eyebrow at him as if asking, ‘ God, are u really this lame?’

He really should have added ‘no more appearing in his room and scaring the crap out of him’ in those terms and conditions during their talk in the forest, Stiles thought as he felt his heartbeat slowly returning to its normal pace.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Stiles said smoothly, figuring that it was no use accusing Derek of being a giant creeper for the nth time.

“Stiles,” Derek said while closing his eyes and letting out an exasperated sigh as if he was dealing with a stubborn kid, before continuing, “I don’t need to hear your heartbeat to know that you were lying in the forest. Anyone who has spent some time observing you closely enough would notice how your left eye slightly twitches whenever you are not telling the truth.”

Stiles was completely affronted and ready to argue until he finally realized what had Derek just unconsciously admitted.

“Wait a second. You observe me closely?”

That was the question Stiles asked in a dumbfounded voice rather than to argue with Derek.

If he didn’t know any better he would have thought that he saw Derek’s eyes widening for a fraction at his question.

Also, if he wasn’t already very familiar with Derek’s 2 default moods such as the alpha either being a picture of indifference, or anger, then he would have even thought that Derek looked slightly awkward as he turned his gaze away and huffed as he responded, “I’m the alpha. It’s my job to observe anyone and everyone closely.”

So, Derek did admit it, Stiles thought, suddenly feeling strange.

He cursed his traitorous body when his heart skipped a beat at that making Derek look at him in surprise.

Stiles hated himself even more when he felt his cheeks getting hotter causing Derek to clear his throat.

“Fine. Don’t tell me. But, I don’t know how you expect me to trust you with anything when you don’t trust me nor Scott whom you claim to be doing all of this for,” Derek finally said in a judgmental voice, before practically vanishing out of his window.

Oh, great.

Of all the people to guilt trip him, it just had to be Derek and he just had to involve Scott in this.

Way to make him feel all good about himself, Stiles thought bitterly as he rubbed his hand over his face.

✢

Stiles was so absent-minded as he sat in the café waiting for his order that he only registered his name being called out as the barista girl behind the counter raised her voice, irritation obvious in her tone, “ Okay, if this is once again a prank order then you could have at least chosen a more creative name than Stiles, because WHAT THE HELL IS EVEN A STILES?!”

“I’m Stiles. Sorry,” Stiles finally said as he moved to the counter to take his latte macchiato, noticing how the girl still seemed annoyed for having to call out to him so many times, but also slightly embarrassed about offending his name.

It wasn’t like Stiles wasn’t used to kids mocking him, or people looking at him strangely whenever he introduced himself.

However, he considered it far better than telling them his real name which he was certain no one but himself and his father would be able to pronounce properly.

Even Scott, who was one of the rare people to have had the honor of actually knowing his real name, or more like sneakily stealing his driving license while he was in the bathroom that one time and then proceeding to try and pronounce his name for the next 2 hours, was still not able to say it right.

Stiles was just about to get out with his plastic cup in hand, his fingers already reaching for the metal knob when a voice on his right inquired, “So, you are the famous Stiles?”

Stiles turned to the direction where the voice came from, his gaze falling on a pretty brunette, about his age, or slightly younger, who was sitting at a table and twirling her pen between her fingers while staring at him with an amused quirk of her lips.

Stiles had no idea what was so entertaining about him, or how she even knew him, because he was pretty sure he had never met her before, but thanks to his curiosity, he answered, “Yeah, that’s me. The one and only Stiles. And who might you be?”

For a moment, he thought how her eyes flashed yellow when he confirmed that he was indeed Stiles, but he was sure that he was getting slightly delusional, having been surrounded by so many werewolves lately.

Well, that was until she responded to his question.

“I’m Cora. Pleased to meet you.”

He widened his eyes in surprise when she introduced himself, because even though he had not seen her before, he was pretty sure that there weren’t that many girls named Cora in Beacon Hills, especially ones whose eyes flashed yellow.

So, this could only be the one and only Cora Hale.

“Ah, another Hale to growl at me, or mock me. I am thrilled,” Stiles said dryly.

He was surprised when the brunette chuckled earnestly at that, displaying her white and pointy teeth.

 “I bet I can guess which one growls at you and which one mocks you. Since both roles are already taken, how about I do none of that?”

Stiles, despite his previous bad mood he was in ever since Derek kind of accused him of being an untrusting prick, suddenly felt intrigued by the apparently only member of the Hale family who didn’t openly despise him.

So far.

That’s why he sat at the table across her, not missing the way her grin widened, her eyes shining mischievously.

Oh, she was definitely a dangerous one, Stiles thought when she leaned in and said in a conspiratorial voice, “You have no idea how much I wanted to meet the one who managed to piss off my brother so much that rarely any of the others visits the loft anymore.”

Stiles wasn’t sure if he should be insulted by that remark, or honored, since the girl sitting across him seemed to be pleased by the negative effect his presence had on Derek.

“Does that mean you hate your brother, or what? Also, let me just say that the feeling between him and is me mutual, except that I don’t have a group of hairballs chillin’ around me 24/7 to cause them to get out of my sight with my sullen attitude,” Stiles said, not even realizing how he revealed that he was slightly lonely until he saw Cora’s expression slightly softening.

Shit, he didn’t want her pity.

Luckily, she seemed to be very perceptive as she ignored his underlying implication and said, “Of course not. It’s just that ever since he became an alpha, Derek is nothing but serious all the time and I am glad to finally see him back to his old vexed self.”

Stiles frowned, because were they talking about the same alpha, or what?

As far as he knew Derek always openly expressed his irritation with him, so he had no idea what Cora was saying.

Apparently, she noticed his expression and chuckled as she further explained, “You see, when we were younger and Derek was still a beta and totally awkward, he was not like this. Laura’s main hobby was to annoy the hell out of him and it was always so fun to see him grumbling under his breath about how childish she was acting by pranking him, or arranging him blind dates with other lacrosse players.”

Stiles’s eyebrows shoot up all the way to his hairline, because a) Derek Hale being awkward was something he could not imagine, b) Laura pranking him and getting out of it alive was also unimaginable and c) Derek Hale on blind dates with MALE LACROSSE PLAYERS?! Did that mean that he played for that team??

The living EMBODIMENT OF SEX ON LEGS WAS ACTUALLY INTO GUYS??!

No freaking way, Stiles thought, his heart rate suddenly increasing.

Cora, as if she had read his mind, or more like heard his heartbeat, just smirked at him, causing him to blush slightly.

He desperately needed a change of topic which was why he blurted out, “There is no way we are referring to the same Derek Hale. He is anything but awkward and also I am pretty sure that he would have already ripped Laura’s heart out if she tried to prank him.”

Cora laughed heartily at that, surprising Stiles, before her expression became slightly grim and sad even.

“Oh, you have no idea what Derek was like in high school. Despite being the star of the lacrosse team, he was always an introvert, who enjoyed reading books most of the time and rarely going out, or God forbid going to the countless parties he was invited to. Also, Laura was older than him, so it was her duty to pick on her little bro and annoy him every chance she got. But, that’s just how she expressed her love. In fact, she was the one who was supposed to become the next alpha, but then all of this with Peter happened and well…Things turned out the way they did…”

Stiles held his breath as he listened to Cora, the sudden revelation about young Derek making something flutter in his chest.

Also, he could practically feel the pain radiating from her at the memories of their crazy uncle and everything that had happened after the Hale tragedy.

Not only have they lost most of their family in the fire, but then they had to deal with their psychotic uncle, who had even tried to kill Laura, causing Derek and her to later rip Peter’s throat out.

It was only now that Stiles started to realize why it was that Derek never smiled and always looked so on edge and murderous.

Honestly, it’s not like he had the best life so far.

Before he could ponder on it more, Cora suddenly said, “But, lately, Derek seems to resemble his old self more and it’s all because of you.”

“Because of me?”

Stiles asked while knitting his eyebrows in confusion.

Cora smiled and said, “Yeah, every time Scott, or someone mentions your name, he starts growling and insulting you, usually saying how you are a ‘stupid, reckless human who is too inquisitive for your own good’. It’s so funny seeing him riled up like that just at the mention of your name and honestly so refreshing.”

Stiles glowered, because it’s not like he shared her happiness about Derek apparently badmouthing him whenever someone mentioned him.

They were supposed to be improving their ‘relationship’ and this only seemed to prove how Derek couldn’t even stand the thought of him, so much that he even drove the others out of the loft with his pissy behaviour.

Suddenly, Stiles’s mood dampened even more.

Cora must have sensed it, because she squeezed his wrist out of the blue, making him startled.

“Hey, trust me, he doesn’t hate you. If he did, you would have already known by now. I think he is more vexed by your behavior since you are a human and easily breakable. After all, we had humans in our…Pack.”

Stiles saw the way she gulped at that, her eyes becoming slightly glazed as the memories flooded her mind and he guessed she was referring to the time before the fire.

Apparently, those humans from their pack also experienced the horrible fate the rest of her family did.

Stiles’s heart ached for her and even Derek and Laura, because they did not deserve that.

“ Hey…,” he said gently, making her look up at him, before shaking her head, a sad smile gracing her red lips.

“Anyways, we were always worried about the humans in our pack, because we could heal while they could not. It was an especially sensitive issue to Derek, who had once accidentally hurt one of the human children from our pack, when they were wrestling playfully as kids, causing Derek to unintentionally use a bit more of force, wanting to win, thus breaking the human child’s arm. Even though the human kid said it was okay and none of the humans were angry, our father yelled at Derek a lot that time and Derek never truly forgave himself for what had happened. Afterwards he even avoided interacting with any humans, in fear of hurting them.”

Stiles did remember Derek’s slightly desperate yelling about him being human during the chimera chaos, but it wasn’t Derek’s fault that Stiles had a tendency to get himself in life-threatening situations.

Even his dad couldn’t stop him when he got his mind set on doing something, no matter how dangerous it was, let alone Derek.

“Sucks to be me, but I have to go back to school now. But, we should do this again. What’s your number?”

Stiles blinked at Cora, who was already standing up and holding her phone out for him to type in his number.

“Uh, are you sure that’s a good idea? After everything you just said about Derek literally blowing a fuse at the mere mention of my name,” Stiles asked tentatively.

Cora just snorted, saying, “ Please. As if I ever take Derek seriously. Despite being the alpha now, he was my awkward, shy brother first, so his threats don’t scare me. Besides, he is one big teddy bear deep down.”

Maybe deep, deep, deeeeeeeeeep, down, Stiles though skeptically, not able to imagine Derek as some big softy.

Stiles finally typed in his phone number, because he was sure that Cora was even more stubborn than he was which really was something.

Besides, she was fun.

Well, more fun than the rest of the two Hales he had the ‘pleasure’ of being acquainted with.

“Hey, how come I have never seen you around school? You must be about 17 now?” Stiles asked as Cora headed towards the door.

“I don’t go to Beacon Hills high school. Blame it on Derek and his protective ways. He enrolled me in a high school in the other town, so that if anyone ever attacked the loft he would reduce the chances of me being there at that time. Also, I am turning 16 in 2 months, so don’t put me in the oldies basket with you. Catch ya later, Stiles.~”

And just like that, with an insult about his age and a sweet smile, Cora Hale left the café causing Stiles to regret giving her his number.

Somehow, he was sure that the acquaintance with her was going to bring him even more trouble with the Hales.

Or, more precisely, with the male member of the Hale family.

Stiles let out a tired sigh, wrinkling his nose in disgust when he finally took a sip of his coffee, only to realize that it had gotten lukewarm during his conversation with Cora.

Nothing seemed to be going right today, he thought.

✢

His previous thought of this being a bad day further proved to be right when he came home, only to discover that his whole living room was filled with werewolves (minus Derek) with his father sitting in his armchair and casually chatting with them, Laura of all people, to be precise.

Fuck.

The change in his heartbeat must have been very noticeable, because all of the werewolves looked at him, Erica smirking at him, Laura having a small amused smile while Scott looked slightly frantic before he jumped up and exclaimed, “Stiles!”

Before Stiles could respond or ask what the fuck was going on or why in the world did his living room turn into a werewolf headquarters, Scott was coming to clasp him on the shoulder, whispering quickly, “ Don’t worry. Everything is under control,” before quickly moving away.

Stiles looked at him quizzically because which part of a horde of werewolves hanging out with his dad in the living room was not supposed to have him worried??

“Mr. Stilinski, this turkey sandwich is heavenly. Oh, hey Stiles,” Isaac said sheepishly as he came into the living room out of the kitchen, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand.

Stiles immediately narrowed his eyes at his dad, saying in an accusatory voice, “Turkey? Dad, you know that you are not supposed to eat mea—,” only to get cut off by his dad who got up from the chair, his expression slightly vexed as he said, “Yeah, yeah, I know. But the boy was hungry and I couldn’t find it in me to feed him with that gross green thing you make me eat.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, saying, “It’s called salad and it’s good for your health.”

“Yeah, well then you eat it,” Stiles’s dad grumbled under his breath making the werewolves chuckle and causing his dad to look at them with a surprised expression.

“Wow, I thought I had whispered that part. You kids must have pretty good hearing, huh?”

Stiles looked at the werewolves with a murderous expression, most of them wearing tight lipped smiles while Stiles patted his dad on the shoulder, his voice an octave higher than usual when he said, “Ah-haha-ha, yeah, well dad, we are at the prime time of our lives, so it’s no wonder we heard the grumblings of one ungrateful old man. Anyways, look at the time already! Aren’t you going to be late for work? After all, isn’t the Sherriff supposed to be a role model to the others and yet you are—“

Stiles’s babbling which was turning slightly hysteric was interrupted by his dad’s palm in the air to prevent him from talking.

“I get it, I am not wanted here anymore. Well, it was nice meeting you all. I had no idea Stiles had so many new friends,” his dad said, looking at him with a slightly sad expression, probably for not telling him about his ‘new friends’, making Stiles feel a pang in his chest.

Firstly, because his dad thought he didn’t want to tell him about having new friends.

Secondly, because the truth was that these weren’t his friends, not even close to it, even if Stiles sort of wanted them to be, except maybe Erica.

He wasn’t such a fan of getting close to the wicked looking blonde.

Finally, he felt bad that his dad thought how Stiles was practically kicking him out because he felt embarrassed by him or something when in fact he didn’t want his dad discovering what kind of creatures his so-called new friends were.

That was why when he was sure his dad had left, hearing the police car driving away, he hissed angrily, “ What the fuck do you think you are doing here, barging into my house and getting chummy with my dad?!”

“Chill, shrimp. We didn’t even want to come, but Scott insisted and trust me you were our last resort.”

Yeah, Stiles definitely didn’t want to be close with the bitchy blonde, who said that, but then he narrowed his eyes at his friend who was avoiding his gaze.

“Scott, how could you betray me like that?”

“Stiles, it’s not like that! It’s just that we need your help, since Derek is slightly…Uh, well, not really in condition to deal with this and you are the only one who can help us with this new threat.”

Stiles hated how quickly he perked up when Scott mentioned how he was the only one who could help them with some new danger.

His tendency to be needed made him sick, but he pushed away that feeling for later as he stared at Scott’s pleading eyes and huffed, pretending to be bothered,  “Fine. What is it that you need my spectacular brain for?”

He wasn’t even going to dignify Erica’s mocking snort with an answer, instead focusing on Laura who had a serious expression as she got up and asked, “ Have you ever heard of creatures that glow so bright that it blinds you, but evaporate when you try to slice through them?’

Well, that description about slicing them was too specific, but regarding the ‘glowing and evaporating’ part, a name was at the tip of his tongue.

What was it called—joratsu?

N,  that wasn’t it, Stiles thought as he tried to remember what title it was exactly in Deaton’s book that he read on ‘creatures that appeared and vanished like a mist’.

“Ah!” suddenly he exclaimed, startling Scott a bit, who was staring at him the whole time.

“Johatsu—japanese term for people that evaporate. Only in this case, they are not people anymore, but shells of what they used to be. You see, in Japan, there is a whole network of people who have ‘disappeared’ driven by debts, or in general by some misfortune. Those people would arrange to vanish without a trace and if they didn’t want to be found, then they weren’t. However, it was said that so many years in self-chosen-exile caused them to lose their minds, often experimenting on themselves with some toxic substances. As a result, creatures which had no particular shape appeared, haunting what they needed the most. People’s life energy.”

When Stiles finished, the werewolves were watching at him with slightly petrified and also awed faces.

“How do you even know so much about all these stuff?” Erica asked, her voice surprisingly fascinated instead of the usual condescending one when talking with him.

“Uh, I read a lot and surf the dark web often,” Stiles easily lied, or well—told half of the truth.

While it was true that he did acquire a lot of info from those sites, his main source of knowledge were Deaton’s books which held more facts about the supernatural than any site on the Internet he had ever visited.

Luckily, everyone seemed to believe him.

Apparently they had no idea about his “left eye twitch” when he lied and wow, it was only now that he realized how Scott, who had been his best friend since childhood, didn’t know  that about him and Derek, who had known him just for a few months, noticed that.

It was only now that Stiles realized just how truly observant the alpha was, not to mention smart.

Suddenly, he thought back to his conversation with Cora, with her sharing her memories with him about Derek and his love for books and in that aspect, Stiles could definitely relate to him.

He must have drifted away into his own world for longer then he should have, because he felt someone bumping his shoulder and when he looked up he saw Scott staring at him with knitted eyebrows.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sure. So, why are you even asking me about johatsu? Don’t tell me that they are here in Beacon Hills,” Stiles groaned especially when Laura curtly nodded, a displeased expression on her face.

“One of them came at me yesterday evening, but when I tried to claw at him, it just disappeared,” she added and Stiles thought how in this supernatural world there were no breaks.

First the chimeras, then pixies and now johatsus…

Just peachy, he thought bitterly.

“The real question is how do we get rid of the nasty buggers?”

Stiles looked at Erica when she said that and continued staring at him as if he had all the answers.

He wished he had.

“I don’t know. But, I can look it up and get back to you,” he offered tentatively, looking at Laura who he guessed was second in command after Derek although judging by Cora’s stories, initially Laura was supposed to be the alpha which he could totally imagine.

She said, “You do that and we will try and get its scent. Oh, and please don’t come to the loft, “ she said, even sounding slightly apologetic.

“Derek is not currently in the mood for visitors, “ she added, making Erica snort as she exited the door and Stiles knew that that was just a nice way of saying, “ Derek is in no mood for you.”

After all, Cora had already informed him of that.

Stiles just said, “Yeah, when is Derek in the mood for anything,” making Isaac chuckle as he headed towards the door.

Scott just smiled at him and said, “Thanks, bro. We owe you.”

Stiles wanted to say how no, he didn’t owe him, because he was his best friend, but he just offered a grin in response.

Laura was the last one to leave his house and when she stopped next to him, staring at him with a quirked eyebrow and that amused grin, he felt the need to yell at her to tell him what was amusing her so much?!

In the end, he got his question answered, before asking it as she said in a hushed voice, “I see you’ve met my baby sister. I knew she would find you sooner, or later. Just hope that Derek doesn’t find out, because he isn’t going to be too happy about it.”

Just like that, Laura left him confused and irritated, because why the hell did everything revolve about tiptoeing around Derek, because God forbid someone ever told him, or did something, to make him irked.

Stiles couldn’t care less about that, he thought as he ran upstairs to take a quick shower and then head to Deaton’s to see if he can find out something about how to get rid of these evaporating things.

✢

Unfortunately, Stiles dozed off instead of taking a shower, so when he woke up only to realize it was already getting dark outside, he rushed out of his house, hoping that he would get to the clinic before it closed, because he had no other way of reaching Deaton.

He should have really asked for the vet’s phone number, he thought as he ran towards the clinic.

“Damn it!” Stiles cursed as he arrived in front of the door, only to find it locked, all the lights out.

He checked the back door as well, but it was also locked.

Stiles panted, trying to catch his breath and wondering what he should do now.

He didn’t really want to waste any time with the johatsus freely roaming Beacon Hills, but he had no idea how to reach Deaton.

Of course, he could always ask Scott if he had his phone number, but then he would have to explain all about sort of being Deaton’s apprentice in the magical world and yada yada which he really wasn’t in the mood for.

All the way home he kicked pebbles angrily, wondering what he should do next when he spotted something in the street right across his house.

A black, sleek camaro parked right in his street and wait, didn’t that belong to—, before Stiles could finish his thought, the door of the vehicle opened and of course, one extremely aggravated werewolf came out.

Stiles braced himself as he stood on his lawn, the alpha heading towards him quickly and with determination.

“ Why hello Derek, what may I do for you on this fine evening?” Stiles said sweetly, but as usual that seemed to have irritated Derek even further.

“Cut the crap. Why the hell did Cora come home smelling of you?”

Ah, so that was what the fuss was about, Stiles realized when Derek snarled at him now standing right in front of him, or looming would be a better expression.

Stiles did not let this bother him, because he knew that somehow talking to Cora would come to bite him back in the ass.

If only Derek knew that Stiles now even knew of his awkward teen days before becoming “The Alpha”, then Stiles was positive that he wouldn’t even be standing in one piece here in front of the fuming werewolf.

He was just about to give some witty response as always, when he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye.

Stiles only had a second to register the bright white light coming from behind Derek, recognizing it as the johatsu, before yelling “Look out!” and somehow managing to push away a confused Derek just in time, before the beam of light hit him.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to get out of the way as well, the light burning into him and throwing him of his feet in an instant.

The last thing he saw was Derek’s horrified face, his eyes wide in shock as they stared at him and there was guilt in them too and oh great, now that idiot sourwolf is going to blame himself for Stiles’s recklessness, Stiles thought disgruntle.

Well, maybe it served him right for being such a jerk about Cora and all the other stuff, the petty voice in Stiles’s head suddenly said, before everything went black.


End file.
